Date: Thu, 14 Sep 2006 03:02:37 -1000
From: S turner <scotty.13411@hotmail.com>
Subject: Strange Bedfellows Chapter 16

     Disclaimer:  The following narrative contains graphic depictions of
sexual activity among consenting young adult men.  If it is illegal for you
to read suck material where you are, then leave it alone and move on.  This
is a largely fictionalized account of the main character's life and
relationships while he was a college student.  Any resemblance to any real
persons, living or dead, is mostly coincidental.  This story is copyrighted,
2006, and may not be copied, reprinted or reposted elsewhere without the
expressed consent of the author.  Okay, since this is long overdue anyway,
let's rejoin the guys in their hotel suite downtown Minneapolis, the day of
the big game.


     "What the...?  Where the hell...?"

     As Scott began to wake, but before he'd opened his eyes, the first
reality, both physically and psychologically, that settled in on him was
that he wasn't in his dorm bed.  Nor was he under his parents' roof.  Too
cushy and comfy on top; too firm beneath that.  Too much room.  Then, as he
came out of the fog of a fitful sleep, a his yawning mouth gave way to a
grin, eyes still closed.  In his mind's eye, Marty Anderson was once again
swinging the minister's wife around in the midst of a crowd at the casino.
He stretched out, both arms and legs, and his eyes eyes slowly opened to
confirm what his body was finding out.  He was suddenly aware of being
alone.  The last things he remembered from the night before were Marty's
fingertips, slowly rubbing his chest, on the little patch of hair between
his pecs.  Short, soft strokes that he registered as having felt really
good, and the whispered reassurances he gave were comforting.  Marty was
gone now.

     Scott got up and padded into the adjoining bathroom, eyes still mostly
closed.  Without turning on the light, he negotiated his way to the toilet,
stepping on a wet towel on the way.  He turned around and dropped his
boxers.  He'd developed the habit of sitting to pee first thing in the
morning, all the easier to manage a decent aim with his usual morning wood,
and less effort if he was still mostly asleep.  He sat down and aimed his
swollen tool downward and enjoyed a very satisfying piss as his rigid member
gradually softened.

     Marty had the Bose stereo in the kitchen area playing softly.
Minnesota Public Radio played a classical format, and something soothing by
someone Scott could never name was playing.  He tugged on some gym shorts
and a t-shirt, and opened the door.  An arm, a hand and a steaming mug of
coffee blocked his path.  He peeked around to his left, and a grinning Marty
Anderson said, "'morning, professor."

     "You a psychic, too?  Or have you just been standing there since God
knows when, waiting for me to open the door?"  Scott took the mug and raised
it slightly in a genial `good morning' salute.

     "No trick.  Heard you cough, then heard the toilet flush."  He motioned
with his head toward the couch.  Scott moved the scattered sections of the
morning "Minneapolis Tribune" from the cushions, and sat back against the
arm of the sofa, crossing his legs in front of him.  "Thanks, Marty.  And,
good morning to you, too."  He raised his mug again to his friend.  "Sorry I
was such little puissant last night.  And, thanks again for dinner.  But you
know I just wasn't up for much of a party."

     "I know.

     "Thanks, anyway."

     Marty paused and slowly. silently nodded his recognition and
understanding.  "No problem, bud."  He paused again, then changed his tone.
"Aaaaannnnd," his voice sank and rose several notes in a sing-song
announcement that he had something to say.  "I think I've figured it out!"
He worked to smile like the cat that was contentedly digesting the canary.

     "Huh?"

     "Your dad and Maureen."  He took a slow sip and looked at Scott with a
determination that said `now, pay attention.'  "It's legal."  Another sip to
let Scott hear it and think about it, then continued.  "That is, I mean, he
must be working as her lawyer."

     Scott screwed up his face.  "Huh?  How do you figure?"

     Marty plopped down and mirrored Scott's position, leaning back on the
opposite side of the couch with his legs crossed.  He took another sip of
his own coffee and leaned over his folded legs.  "Think about it.  I figure
there's personal, as in intimate, history between Big Scott and Maureen, and
they sure as hell wouldn't be the first pair of old flames to rekindle a
romance.  So, that is one sad possibility.   BUT!...Now,  I don't know the
guy, but I do know the guy he raised.  So, I don't believe that."

     He gave it another few seconds to settle.  He'd thought about this
presentation a lot, and knew that the timing was going to be everything.
Once Scott gave a gentle smile to Marty's complement, that was the green
light to continue.  "And...If it's personal in some other respects, then you
and your mom would be in on it.  If it was a crisis and didn't involve her
and your dad, like some reckless asshole was suing her for something, or she
had a DUI, or anything legal and embarrassing, she'd have still shared it
with the whole family, right.  I mean, you folks are tight, yeah?  "

     Scott nodded.  "Almost one family, in a lot of ways.  Well, I've always
sensed a sort of rift between Mom and Maureen, but they're so different, and
over the years they've shared Big Scott.  I came to think that it was pretty
normal for there to be a certain amount of tension there.  But the two gals
are still real close.  Kind of weird, maybe, but we've always been thick as
thieves, even when Gene was still alive.  But, yeah, you know a lot of the
history there."

     Marty nodded enthusiastically.  "So, now, stick with me here.  If it
was personal, but not extra-marital, you'd know about it, right?"

     Scott pondered it.  "Most likely.  In fact, I think me and Mom would be
in on it."  He blew on the surface of the coffee, then took a long drink.
It tasted good, and the caffine was having the desired affect.

     Marty nodded and continued.  "Okay!  So then there's political.  Again,
if that was it, I figure you'd probably hear about it, even before your old
man."

     Scott looked skeptical.

     Marty's eyes widened.  "Maybe?  If not before, then at least at about
the same time?  At least they wouldn't be whispering about a political issue
behind your back!  You and Maureen have more common ground on the political
field than she and your dad have, don't you think?  Besides, it's not like
Big Scott's been a long-time, big-time political insider with her.  If it
was political and not-so-huge, then you'd know about it.  If it was
political and really big, then `Big Scott' would not be the go-to-guy."

     Scott nodded slowly.  "Yeah...that makes sense."  In some ways, it felt
like Marty had actually been reading his mind.

     Marty looked intensely into Scott's eyes, like a defense lawyer facing
a jury.  "So what's left?  Think about the common ground they could
reasonably have.  He's a lawyer.  She's a politician.  She's also a widow,
probably with an estate from her late husband, and God knows what else he
could've left behind.  She's a lawyer who still owns a practice, even if she
doesn't actively participate.  Who else might need a lawyer?"  He got up and
walked to the kitchen counter, picked up the coffee decanter, and walked
over to refill both mugs.

     Scott shook his head, and his feet hit the floor.  "But she's a lawyer
herself!  Why would she need...?"  Then, the old adage hit him again, and he
muttered it out loud.  "The lawyer who represents himself, or herself, has
an ass for a client."

     Marty replaced the pot, then sat back down on the couch, folding his
legs again as he put his coffee on the floor.  He put out his hands, palms
up as if to plead with Scott.  "Isn't that the perfect reason for Big Scott
to hide their recent meetings?  If she's his client, he can't discuss it
with anyone.  If he's a man of true principle and conviction, and I believe
he is, then he can't even divulge to his own wife and son the fact that he's
working for her!  I think the phrase is, `privilege is attached,' as far as
just about anything they say or do when he does his job as her counsel.
Three real reasons it makes sense!"  Raising one digit at a time, Marty
brought the point home.  "First, all things considered, who else might need
a lawyer more than Maureen McCarthy?  Second, she trusts him, and he trusts
her to tell him the truth.  Third, if it's some ugly legal matter that he's
working on for her, all the more reason to hide it from you or your mom."

     Scott breathed a heavy sigh, and looked at his friend with an easy,
comforted expression that said `thank you!'  "You're right, Marty!  You've
got to be right."  Scott leaned back and stretched out his legs, his feet
resting a few inches from Marty's hip.

     Marty smiled and reached over to rub the top of Scott's left foot.
"Now...you gotta lighten up, my man!  We're here to put the world's problems
behind us and raise some hell!  You're bringing me down, bud!  Wrap your
brain around Marty's solution to your problem.  Even if I could be wrong,
and we both know that while I COULD be, but I RARELY AM on such matters." he
winked at Scott and picked up his coffee. "You hafta forget about it for
another day and a half or so."

     A minute of quiet classical music, Pachabel, Scott thought, sifted
through the aroma of the freshly poured coffee.  Marty squeezed his calf.
"Hey.  Do ya'..."

     Scott's foot kicked sideways into his thigh, cutting him off.  "Yeah.
Yes, Marty.  I do trust you."

     Scott was about to speak again when the door to Jesse and Frank's room
opened about six inches, then closed, and then slowly opened again.  They
heard some soft laughter again before the door closed one more time.  Scott
looked at Marty in utter confusion.  Marty just grinned, nodded and winked.
"Just wait," he whispered.

     Nothing happened.  Marty snickered before taking another sip of coffee.
  "Gino!  C'mon out.  We're not gonna bite!  Not unless you ask real nice!"
Before the door finally opened the rest of the way, Marty whispered, "Frank
gave him the number before leaving the restaurant."  He winked.

     The door slowly crept open again, and a sheepish-looking Italian stud
closed the door behind him.  "Good morning, guys."  Gino offered shyly,
looking mostly at the floor.

     Scott chuckled.  "Come by to collect the rest of you tip, did you,
Gino?"

     The waiter hoisted a foot up and onto the arm of the loveseat to tie a
shoe.  From his bowed and blushing face he looked up at Scott and grinned.
"Yeah, sort of, but I also gave some of it back.  Too bad you guys retired
early."

     Marty smirked at Scott, "He's a full-service waiter."  Then he leered
back at Gino and shrugged.  "Well, we're here for another night, my boy, so
if you're not doing anything..."

     Gino shook his head.  "Nah...sorry.  I work the evening shift again at
the Napoli, then go to my second gig.  I dance at The Saloon `til close.
You guys should stop by after the game tonight.  Who knows, after I'm done?
Frank and Jesse have my number.?"

     Marty laughed.  "Dude, with all these football fans in town, you could
have your favorite cut of choice Wisconsin beef."

     There was a knock on the door.  Marty sprang up off the couch.  A
handsome young man with a dazzling smile and curly blond hair chirped, "Room
Service!  Your order sir."  Marty waved him in and directed him toward the
kitchen counters.

     The guy's eyes widened, and smiled broadly.  "Gino!  How's it going?"

     Gino wiggled his eyebrows.  "Going good, Kory.  Going very good!"  He
looked at his watch.  "But, speaking of going...I gotta be doing just that."
He waved at all the guys.  "Have a good time at the game.  See ya' round,
Kory," and then he strode out the door.

     The hotel's waiter grinned and nodded.  "Hope so!" then he returned to
setting up the breakfast spread Marty had ordered.  He surveyed the array of
trays and plates, then turned around.  "Gentlemen, that should do it.  If
there's anything else I can do for you two?  Anything?  At all?"

     "Not at the moment, Kory." Marty picked the bill folder off the cart
and surveyed it. He peeled off a stack of twenties from his casino winnings
and handed it all back to the blond hottie.  "Here you go.  Keep it.  You're
a champ!"

     Kory nodded, nearly bowed.  "Thank you sir.  Thank you very much!"  He
backed out the doorway, closing the door behind him.

     There was a basket full of bagels, and another one with hard rolls and
croissants, a bowl of butter pads and another large dish of creamed cheese.
A plate of lox and another one of Canadian bacon, shaved smoked turkey and
dried beef.  A separate platter had an array of sliced cheeses, and platter
of fresh fruit sat next to that.  The meal was rounded out by a large carafe
of orange juice, and another one of tomato.  As Marty had requested, a
bottle of Tobasco, a shaker of celery salt, another of garlic salt and one
of white pepper sat between the jar of kosher dill spears and the other jar
of large olives.  He was satisfied.

     They heard the shower start to run in the James Brothers' room.  "I'm
starved!" Marty exclaimed.  "While the boys soap each other up, I'm going to
eat."  He plugged in the toaster, and began to slice into a bagel.

     Scott set down his mug.  "I'm going to, too, in a minute, but could use
a shower myself."  He stepped behind Marty and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Thanks, buddy.  That stuff about Dad makes good sense."

     Marty grinned and nodded, but didn't turn around.  "That's my boy!  Now
get cleaned up and get into the swing of things, will ya'?  We're here to
fucking party."

     Scott squeezed his shoulder.  "You got it!  Be out in a minute."

     Just as he was stepping into the shower, he heard Marty shout.
"Heeeeeyy!"

     Marty's analysiss did make sense, a lot of sense.  There were any
number of reasons why a woman in Maureen's position would need an attorney,
and a good one.  Depending on the nature of the issue, a lawyer she could
trust, absolutely and unconditionally, would be crucial.  Who else, other
than Big Scott Turner?  His professional and personal integrity had long
placed him head and shoulders above his colleagues of the Wisconsin Bar.
So, protecting their lawyer-client relationship and their friendship would
justify misleading even his wife and son about where and how he was spending
his time with Maureen.  Scott felt the burdens of the world wash away as he
rinsed his body.  He could hear Marty talking a mile a minute as he toweled
himself off.

     Scott wrapped the plush terrycloth around his waist and stepped into
the living room.  Marty was leaning against the kitchen wall talking to the
stranger who was standing at the counter fixing a plate of food.  Marty had
said that his friend worked for the Twins.  From the back, at least, he
looked like he could be playing for the team.  Scott guessed six feet even,
with broad shoulders and a tightly muscled back that filled out his
long-sleeved tee very nicely, tapering down to a narrow waist.  He had an
apple-shaped ass that would have looked great in a baseball uniform, but
which certainly looked more than just fine in the tight-fitting jeans.

     Marty glanced and caught Scott checking out his buddy's butt.  He
chuckled as he said, "Hey, there he is!  Danny!  I want you to meet one of
my best buds for life!"  Scott stepped forward as the tall stranger turned
around.  His blond hair was cut short, and his piercing blue eyes locked
onto Scott's.  A smile lit up his clean-shaven, almost angelic looking face,
and a single dimple emerged on only his left cheek.  "Scott!" Marty motioned
him over, "meet my old buddy Danny."

     Danny's hand came out quickly and Scott stepped up to grasp it.  "Danny
Huber, good to know ya'!  Marty's been saying some really nice things about
you."

     Scott held onto the hand for another moment, but his gaze never left
Danny's eyes.  "Scott Turner.  Uuhhh... he's been pretty good to you, too.
Nice to meet you."

     Danny slowly surveyed the barely clad man in front of him, and he
clearly liked what he saw, particularly the slight tenting of Scott's towel.
  Likewise, Scott was taken with the athlete whose hand he still held onto
as he continued to check out every inch of the newcomer, particularly the
inviting package below his belt.  Marty wasn't even a little bit surprised
by the electricity he sensed between his two friends.  He was suddenly very
glad that Danny's email address hadn't changed, and that he was available to
get together with the gang for the day...and the evening.

     Scott picked up the conversation. "Glad you could join us, Danny."
Then he thumbed over his shoulder.  "Let me just get some more clothes on,
and I'll join you guys for a bite."

     Danny thought `if you just want to drop that towel, I'll join you for a
bite, and a lick, and a nibble and a suck, and...'

     Scott sauntered into the bedroom, and Danny fixed his gaze on the
round, taut cheeks covered snugly by the damp towel.  He was glad when Scott
only closed the door about half way.  Scott rooted through his bag, which
sat on the floor in front of the closet, nearly behind the door.  From his
vantage point, though, Danny could see Scott's reflection in the dresser
mirror.  With Scott's back to the mirror, the towel dropped, and Danny
admired his fine form and appreciated being able to really check out a very
nice ass.  His spirits slumped a bit as he watched Scott pull on a pair of
boxers without first turning around.  A pair of jeans were added before
Scott turned.  Likewise, Scott could see Danny's reflection from the living
room, and he grinned, coyly adjusting his package through the denim.  He
pulled on a long-sleeved tee that fit him about as well as Danny's did, then
picked up a hooded Wisconsin sweatshirt and a pair of socks before rejoining
the guys in the living room.  He came back out, with Danny's eyes checking
him up and down all over again, and Scott glanced back, welcoming the
inspection.  He poured another cup of fresh coffee as the toaster did its
magic on both halves of a bagel.  He rolled up a thin slice of smoked beef
and munched on it as he sliced a banana in the middle and began to pull the
peel away.  "So, Danny!  Marty tells me your with the Twins these days.
Sucks bein' you, then, doesn't it?"  He closed his lips around the fruit and
slowly bit through the soft flesh.

     Danny laughed as he focused on Scott's mouth.  "Not at all.  It's a
great gig!  Like so many college jocks, my major was Kineseology.  So a
professional sports trainer's room is the natural spot.  Sure, I'd have
preferred something on the other side of the river, but didn't want to leave
the Midwest.  When Minnesota's offer finally came my way, I jumped all over
it.   Most of my time is spent with our Triple-A teams, so I get to travel,
but a lot of weeks, I get to work over in the Dome with "the bigs."

     Marty slapped his old friend on the knee.  "And how big are `the
bigs?'"

     Danny shook his head.  "You might be surprised, Marty.  They're all
over the board.  Some are embarrassingly huge.  Others embarrassingly small,
but they make enough money or have the status where they don't care about
it.  Most are pretty normal, though."

     As Scott buttered his bagel, then smeared it with cream cheese, Marty
observed, "There's no such thing as embarrassingly big, is there?"

     All three shook their heads `No!'

     Scott carefully laid some smoked fish on top of his bagel.  He plopped
a small punch of green grapes and another of red next to the bagel, then
picked up his plate and coffee and turned around.  As he started toward the
love seat, his jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out.  "You fuckers have got
to be kidding me!" He stood there, staring at Frank and Jesse as they
emerged from their room.

     "Relax, cheesehead.  We're Minnesota, born and bred.  What'd you
expect?" Jesse grinned.  The James Brothers emerged from their room wearing
the Golden Gophers maroon and gold sweatshirts.  To his ensemble, Frank had
added a gold colored baseball cap with a big maroon M on its front.  "I'm
all about Bucky Badger vs. anybody...except the Gophers."

     "Let `em be, Scott," Marty was busy at the kitchen counter, working on
the pre-game Bloody Mary's.  "Could make for some interesting wagers, don't
you think?  Boys, I want you to meet my buddy, Danny Huber."  Marty led the
introductions, then returned to making his special drinks while everyone
else attacked the food spread and settled down in the living room.  Danny
happily took a seat next to Scott on the loveseat as Jesse and Frank settled
in on the couch.

     They learned that Danny had grown up in Minocqua, a resort town in far
north-central Wisconsin.  He was an accomplished high school jock, excelling
in basketball and baseball, and certainly looked every bit the part.  His
parents ran a lakeside cabin operation for the tourists.  "Catered mostly to
FIB's like our friend Mr. Anderson over there."  Marty flipped him the bird
over his shoulder.

     "FIB's?" Jesse asked.

     Danny grinned.  "Fucking Illinois Bastards, in the local vernacular.
But, we never turned down all the money they spend when they're up visiting
`God's Country.'"  Danny folded his left leg at the knee, tucking his foot
up under his right thigh.  His knee rested against Scott's thigh. Neither
man flinched or moved.

     Marty made the rounds with a tray of Bloody Mary's, and put a thermal
pot of coffee on the table, then perched between the James Brothers on the
couch.  He smacked a hand on each guy's thigh.  "Sooooooooo! he sang.  Just
HAD to have a second helping of Italian last night, eh, boys?"

     Frank looked nervously at Danny, and Marty squeezed his thigh.  `Relax,
he's cool' he was telling him, and Frank got the message.

     Jesse's gaydar had already zeroed in on Danny, and he was having some
very naughty thoughts of his own.  He snickered.  "Yeah, Frankie went back
to the table last night as we were leaving and buried the phone and room
number in your tip.  Gino called Frank's cell at about 12:30 and was over
here a little after 1:00.  We kept him pretty busy most of the night."  He
yawned and Frank nodded with a grin.  Danny elbowed Scott to indicate his
own understanding and interest in the topic.

     A couple more Bloody Mary's, some friendly get-acquainted give-and-take
with Danny and a joint later, and the guys were ready to head over to The
Metrodome.  Frank led the way out the door, with the others filing out
behind him.  Just as he reached the doorway, Danny abruptly stopped while
Scott was looking away.  Scott didn't notice and ran firmly into his
backside, his crotch bumping directly into Danny's ass.  Instinctively, his
hands went up, one landing on Danny's left shoulder, the other on his waist.

     "Shit!  Forgot my hat!"  Danny looked over his shoulder.

     "Whoa!  Sorry, man!  Not paying attention to where I'm going!"  Scott
stepped back.

     Danny grinned and winked.  "You sure about that?  Don't be sorry.  My
pleasure."  He reached over to the table and picked up his baseball cap.

     Scott smiled back, and waved Danny through the door, admiring his
wonderful butt as it passed.

     Paul Bunyan's Axe has been the traveling trophy fought over by the
Wisconsin Badgers and the Minnesota Golden Gophers since 1948.  But the
annual contest itself, and its emotional significance on both sides of the
mighty Mississippi, dates back to 1890.  Originally, the symbol of the
yearly grudge match between these noble rivals was a wood-carved "Slab of
Bacon" that the winner got to take home.  But then, in the early 1940's,
during a post-game melee on the field involving players, fans, parents,
staff members, marching bands and, probably, stadium employees and security,
"The Bacon" was lost.

     Nearly a decade later, The Axe was born.  Standing more than seven feet
high, it is an imposing weapon, with the scores of every contest since its
creation neatly painted up and down both sides of the handle, and across its
blade.  Every year, the current owner of The Axe guards it closely
throughout the game.  When the final second ticks off the clock, the
victorious gladiators lay claim to the mighty weapon and sprint as a team
around the oval field, The Axe being swung in the air above their heads. On
this particular Saturday, the Axe was in the hands of the Madisonians, as it
had been for most of the trophy's storied life, and they'd come to Minnesota
to retain the right to return it to Camp Randall.

     Hey.  It's college football.  What the hell would you expect?  (**see
Author's Note)

     The box was a two-tiered affair, about twenty feet wide, and roughly
fifteen feet deep.  Inside the door, counter space lined the walls to both
left and right, with three tables for four spaced across the upper level.
Another counter spread roughly half way across the center of the floor,
separating the lower and upper seating areas.  Two steps down, and guests
could take their upholstered seats in front of the large windows overlooking
the crowd and the twenty-yard line.  The windows rose from just above the
counter, about four feet from the floor, affording the guest a comfortable
opportunity to set down their food and drink, lean over and watch both game
and fans from far above.  Scott judged that the distance from the top row of
the stadium seats and the bottom edge of the window to be about eight feet,
so one would have to be a freak in order to be able to peer into a luxury
box from the outside.

     The stadium was already about three-fourths full, and people were still
streaming into either side.  Below Marty's view was a sea of the maroon and
gold of the Gophers.  On the opposite side, in nearly even numbers the seats
of the stadium were filled with Wisconsin's cardinal red and white.  Marty
stood at the window and grinned.  He was wishing their box was on the other
side, above the visitors from Madison, in case he saw somebody in the crowd
that he knew, so that he could knock on the window and give them a plate
glass mooning.

     The buffet that was laid out on the back counters was standard football
game fare, but was generous nonetheless.  Two Nesco heaters, one with brats
and hot dogs, the other with burgers were centered on the counter.  On
either side were trays with a variety of sliced cheeses and baskets of
sliced hard rolls: white, dark rye and wheat, complemented by all the
appropriate condiments.  Iced dishes of potato salad and coleslaw stood
nearby.  Baskets of chips, nuts, pretzels, cheetos and other munchies were
scattered throughout, both on the table tops and on the front counter.  One
sink was filled with ice and contained a variety of bottled water, sodas and
premium beers.  Marty inspected the refrigerator beneath the counter, and
was satisfied that the additional stock of beer and soda inside would be
enough for one football game.

     "Dude, they're buying us beer too?"  Jesse was surprised by the
alcohol.

     "It's corporate.  The stadium doesn't care who's using the box.  They
just know who pays for it and what to have on hand." Frank explained rather
casually.

     Marty checked the adjoining bathroom, first turning on the light, then
hitting the switch next to it.  Two ventilation fans in the ceiling whirred
to life.  He nodded his approval.

     It had been a while since Danny had smoked any pot, and he was a little
surprised at how dry his mouth had become in just the last thirty minutes
since they'd left The Marquette.  He didn't waste any time in taking orders
for the brew of choice for each of the guys.

     Marty took a deck of cards out of the inside pocket of his coat before
hanging it up on a wall hook.  He took his beer from Danny, slid the cards
out of their box, and started loudly shuffling them at the counter.  "Okay,
boys, everybody's in, right?"

     Scott raised his brows as he knocked back a mouthful of ice-cold MGD
and swallowed.  "I'm afraid to ask.  In for what?" he asked, then muffled a
slight post-gulp belch with his hand.

     "Listen up!  Here we have two Gopher fans, and three others who stand
for all that's right in the world."  Jesse and Frank grinned and shook their
heads.  Marty nudged Jesse with an elbow.  "So, here's how it works.  Your
team gets a first down, you pick up a card.  Your team has a single,
twenty-yard advance of the ball, either on the ground or in the air, you
pick up a card; two, if the gain results in a first down.  Of course,
that'll usually be the case, until the `Goofers' find themselves looking at
third-and-thirty, that is."

     "What about on kickoffs and punt returns?" Danny asked.

     "If they advance twenty from the point of receiving the kick, then it's
a card."  Marty continued.  "Your team scores a field goal, it's a card.
Your team scores a touchdown, and it's two cards."  Heads nodded.  "Now, and
here's one of the fun parts.  Your team loses the ball on a fumble or an
interception, then one of us takes a card, sight unseen, out of your hand
and returns it to the deck.  Likewise, your team is penalized, and you lose
another card."

     Jesse was mulling over the rules, and finally asked,  "What if you
don't have any cards when the first flag is thrown?"

     Marty nodded.  "It's like your virginity, son.  Ya' can't lose what you
don't have."

     Scott folded his arms and nodded, then slowly smiled.  "Okay, Diamond
Jim.  And, again, I'm almost afraid to ask, so what are we playing for?"

     Marty's grin was a particularly naughty one.  "Blowjobs."

     "What?!" came back in a chorus.

     "Boys, we're in a friggin' luxury box!   Nobody out there is tall
enough to see in.  We're all a little frisky," he hushed his tone a little
bit and swapped glances with the James Brothers,  "some of us more than
others.  And you all know our dicks are coming out sooner or later ,
probably more than once before the night's over, if I have my way.
Besides...and you gotta admit it, boys...you were all trying to think of a way
to get into somebody's, or everybody's, pants while we're up here!  This'll
take away any silly need for anybody to make decisions or choices, and it'll
add an interesting twist to the game."  The others looked at each other with
a hint of nervous excitement and anticipation.  "So...here's the deal.  At the
end of the first half, you take the five cards you have that make the best
poker hand.  The two low hands suck the cocks of the next two highest hands.
  Those two double-team the guy with the winning hand."

     Danny giggled and motioned to the field beyond the window.  "So they're
playing for Paul Bunyan's Axe.  We're playing for each other's poles."  His
eyes locked on Scott's.  "Sounds like fun.  I haven't had any in a while.
Good way to make new friends."  Scott smiled back and offered a slow nod.

     By the end of the first quarter, the score was 7 to 3, with the Badgers
holding onto a modest lead.  Jesse and Frank each held four cards.  They'd
been all the way up to seven, but an interception and two penalties had cost
them each three cards.  Frank had a pair of fours.  Jesse had briefly held
onto a pair of jacks, but he saw one go away on the last penalty.  He had
squat.  The Wisconsin gamblers each had five cards, down from seven on two
Wisconsin penalties.  Marty held three eights, with a joker and a pair.
Scott was still hoping to fill a seven-jack straight.  All he needed was a
nine or a joker.  Danny had three kings, and was savoring the vision of
Scott's lips wrapped around his thick, uncut member.

     During the break between quarters, Marty got the third round of beers,
then stepped to the restroom door and turned on the fans.  Thn he lit a
joint.  "Better burn this up here, guys, near the fans.  There's being
obvious, and then there's being obnoxious.  We ought to at least try to
limit the sweet odor from wafting too far."  They stood around in a huddle,
joking and giggling and passing a joint.  "Danny, think back!" Marty nudged
his old friend.  Danny's eyes broke away from Jesse's muscled form as Marty
sucked in a huge hit from the shrinking splif.  He held it, and motioned
Danny toward him.  The athlete grinned and leaned toward him, forming an o
with his lips.  Marty nodded and brought his lips within less than an inch
of Danny's, and slowly exhaled.  Danny matched his actions with a slow
inhale, allowing very little smoke to escape their exchange.  They'd
obviously practiced this little game.  Nobody missed the fact that it also
looked pretty damned hot. When his lungs were empty, Marty giggled, and
moved another inch, giving a light peck on Danny's grinning mouth.  "Missed
you, bud!  Really good to see you again."  Danny blushed.

     Marty then went to one of the tables behind the upper counter and
started cutting out lines of coke.  "Who needs a little pick-me-up for the
second quarter?"  As three filed out of the room, Frank took one last hit
from the roach of the once-fat joint, and dropped it into the toilet before
flushing.  He looked up and blew the smoke directly at the fans, then joined
the group assembling around the table.

     The second quarter was more or less a replay of the first, with the
half-time score of 14 to 10.  The Minnesota boys each held eight cards now,
and the Badger fans each had nine, in part due to a lousy penalty call late
in the half.  Marty scooted anxiously in his seat.  "Okay boys, survey your
hands closely and pick your best five cards."  It only took a few seconds
for each one to whittle their hands to a five-card poker hand.

     "Okay, Mr. Anderson," Jesse intoned.  "This was your idea.  Show `em!"

     Marty sighed.  "You know, a little while ago, I was sittin' on three
eights."  He pointed at Frank.  "But this fucker robbed me of one of them on
that last bogus, `ref-has-his-head-up-his-ass' call!  Then I paired another
card in my hand at the last minute.  This should be a full-fucking house."
He laid down his hand.  "Two pair, gents.  Eights and aces."  They all
scanned the faces looking for reaction.  There was none.  "And Jesse has..."
Marty gestured grandly, with an opened hand.

     Jesse shook his head.  "Pair of fucking threes.  This game sucks!"

     Scott giggled.  "Happily, so do you!  And you love it."

     Jesse wiggled his eyebrows, sure that he'd soon be swallowing someone's
man meat.  But whose?

     Scott laid down his hand.  "Well, until well into the second quarter, I
was looking at shit.  But, got lucky on those last two draws."  He smiled.
"Three Jacks!"

     Frank shook his head and sighed as he set down his hand.  "Pair of
fours.  Pair of sixes."

     Danny sat back and beamed.  "I like this game!!  Great fuckin' idea,
Martin."  He slapped Marty's thigh, and rubbed it a few times before moving
his hand.  "Read `em and eat, boys.  Full Boat!  Kings and deuces!"

     Marty stood up and grasped Danny's bicep.  "This way to the winner's
circle, stud."  Danny grinned and happily obliged, following his old friend
to the upper level of the box and behind the counter.  The two were facing
each other as Marty's hands began slowly roaming Danny's firm torso.  He
glanced to his left.  "Scotty, we have a job to do here.  Frankie and Jesse
are just going to have to figure out how to take care of us while we manage
this big man."  Scott was already out of his chair with the James Brothers
following him up and around the counter.  As Marty's tongue slid between
Danny's welcoming lips, Scott reached from behind and started rubbing and
gently kneading the firm and ample package that was beginning to strain the
denim of Danny's jeans.  He liked what he felt.

     Frank went to his knees next to Scott and mimicked the erotic crotch
massage, with Jesse performing the same on Marty's growing bulge.  As the
tongue duel with Marty continued, Danny felt Scott's hand unbuckling his
belt, and then both hands grappled with the top button of his jeans.  Jesse
had managed to coax Marty to turn far enough sideways at the waist so that
he could free Marty's growing tool and had already begun gently licking the
head.  As Scott slowly pulled the zipper on Danny's jeans, Marty slid his
thumbs inside the top and pushed.  From behind, Scott assisted with the
unveiling, and he admired the smooth firm ass, verynicely framed by the
straps of the jock Danny wore.  Marty looked down and grinned.  "Oohh, how
thoughtful.  You remembered!"

     Danny giggled.  "You always said you liked the way I look wearing
nothing but a jockstrap."  The pouch was being challenged mightily by the
hardening member within.  Marty cupped it in his right hand and gave a
gentle squeeze, prompting a short gasp from his appreciative friend.  His
left hand slowly rubbed its way over Danny's six-pack abs, pushing up the
fabric of his shirt until he found the hard nub in the center of his smooth
hard left pec.  Another short gasp greeted the light pinch that Marty
applied.  Marty clearly remembered what buttons to push with Danny Huber.

     Scott slid Danny's pants all the way down to his ankles, and by
crouching, he frustrated Frank's efforts to get into his pants.  So, he left
Danny and Marty alone for a second.  "Lookin' for something, Frankie?"
Frank just grinned and licked his lips, so Scott undid the belt, the button
and the zipper for him.  "Help yourself, bud."  Frank wasted no time and, as
Scott sat propped on his knees, he crawled forward and quickly pushed his
jeans and boxers toward the floor.  Scott's mostly-hard tool jumped out, and
Frank's tongue went to work from the tip of the head, down the shaft and to
its base.

     Marty put his hands on Danny's shoulders and nodded toward the floor.
"Here.  Lay down on your back," and he gently shoved him toward the
carpeting.  Danny complied, and Marty assisted Jesse by pushing his own
pants down to his ankles, completely freeing his cock and balls.  "There you
go, bud," he patted Jesse's head.  "They're all yours, for now anyway."
Jesse smiled, and Marty joined Danny on the floor.

     Scott turned perpendicular to Danny's prone body, with Frank followed
his hips as they shifted across the floor.  Scott slowly rubbed his hand
from Danny's knee, up the firm thigh and onto the bulging mesh of the very
strained pouch of his jock.  The wet spot at the bottom of the fabric was
obvious, and Scott savored the masculine scent while he lowered his head and
ran his tongue up and down over the hardening package.  He wrapped both lips
over the width of the tool, and he moaned when Frank sucked his growing dick
completely into his mouth.  Danny echoed a soft moan of his own in response
to the soft vibrations of Scott's voice and Marty's gentle nibbling of his
left nipple.

     Marty rolled to his left and coaxed Jesse to lie on his back, so he
could straddle the muscle stud's face.  He slid his hand into the top band
of Danny's strap and pushed down.  "Here, Scotty.  Let's give the prisoner
down there a little relief and freedom."  Scott's head retreated and he
looked down to admire Frank's ability to deliver such an expert blow job
from this sideways position.  Danny's hard meat sprang upward, slapping his
abs and flinging a trail of pre-cum onto the ribbed stomach muscles.  Scott
guessed the hot member to be seven, maybe seven and a half uncut inches.
Marty grasped it and slid back the foreskin, although Danny's own blood flow
had forced most of it back already.  He leaned in and gently licked the
exposed head.  He pulled the skin back up, and slid the tip of his tongue
inside, bringing a shudder and an appreciative rubbing on the top of his
head in return.  Scott joined his friend and began licking the nut sack that
Danny kept shaved smooth.  Marty took the pole in his mouth as he slid his
own aching cock in and out of Jesse's hard-working lips and tongue.  Scott
scooted up a few more inches and his tongue joined Marty's on Danny's
rock-hard man meat.  The two friends alternately licked and sucked the cock
between them, as well as each other's lips and tongues.  Then, Scott put his
hand on the back of Marty's head, and the four lips came together
surrounding the head of Danny's pulsing member, and the winner of the poker
game started slowly bucking his hips.  He propped himself up on both elbows
and looked down with abject lust in his eyes, his proud cock sliding up and
down between the two hot, wet mouths.  "Fucking A, boys!  You two make quite
a team."  Marty slid his right hand upward across Danny's panting chest and
gently tweaked his nipple to acknowledge the complement.

     Jesse released Marty's sliding cock and craned his neck to reach up and
suck both of his nuts into his mouth.  He gently tugged and sucked the
scrotum between his lips and reached up with both hands to massage the taut
ass cheeks.  His right middle finger found Marty's twitching rosebud and he
played with and teased it, bringing a soft moan from above him.  Scott was
managing to assist Frank's efforts to bring him to climax by moving his own
hips back and forth as he lay on his side.  Frank played with and massaged
Scott's nuts as his head bobbed forward and back, lips firmly clamped around
the steely pole in his mouth, his right fist twisting and pumping when ample
space of the manhood would allow.  Then he reached around and firmly grasped
Scott's ass and pulled him in.  He swallowed the entire thing and held him
there, rolling his tongue and suckling on the throbbing meat.  Scott's head
shot back away from Danny's cock and he growled.  "Fffffuuuucking shit
Frank!  Goddammit, man, you're a hungry boy aren't you?"  Frank pulled back
and looked up with a glistening smile.  Scott looked down with an
exasperated, but pleased, face.  "Keep that shit up and you're gonna have a
hot dose of me before you know it!"  Frank dove back down on the glistening
pecker.

     Jesse reached up and guided Marty's tool back toward his lips, and took
it all the way down in one move.  Marty echoed Scott's earlier growl as he
impaled his own throat on Danny's erection.  Scott dove forward and sucked
both balls into his mouth and Danny whimpered his approval  from above.  He
dropped down from his elbows and lay flat, closing his eyes and getting
completely lost in the sensations his old and new friends were delivering to
him.

     Jesse let go of Marty's ass, mostly because his own fat cock was
begging for some room and some attention.  Without losing the pace of
Marty's careful fucking of his mouth, he broke open his jeans and grabbed
his already slippery, fat dong in his right hand.  Ministering to his own
need for attention to the thick boy in his right fist, he increased the
suction and the pace on Marty's slippery spear.  Marty was mostly paying
attention to the mouthful of cock he was working on, and Danny was in heaven
for his efforts, but he still managed to expertly time his hip slides, up
and down in time with the slight nodding of Jesse's head, up and down.

     Scott felt it first.  The combination of Frank's hand and his fierce
sucking, combined with the wonderful smell, taste and feel of Danny's nuts
filling his mouth made him forget the game, the location, his parents,
Kelly...everything except the wild and erotic stimulation coursing throughout
his body.  He tapped Marty on the shoulder, and his friend read the signal.
Scott wanted a mouthful of this cock as long as he was still so close to it,
and was about to fill Frank's gullet with his own seed.

     Scott dove downward just as Danny groaned the loudest, and he felt his
big hand on the back of his head.  Through his half-closed eye lids  he saw
Marty's face dive upon Danny's balls, and then his own firing began.  Frank
felt the first blast hit the back of his throat, and his "mmmmmphhhhhffff"
announced that Scott was cumming with a fury.  Scott's head jerked off of
Danny's red cock and he grunted a long grunt, then grabbed the back of
Frank's head and ground his hips forward.  Frank didn't taste a thing at
first, but he sucked with a passion while both of his hands groped at his
own raging monster that was still held tightly inside of his jeans.  He
ached fiercely below and swallowed quickly above, and each of the next five
blasts landed nearer the entrance to his mouth, and instantly coating the
roof of his mouth and his tongue.  He sucked and swallowed like a man on a
mission as he took Scott's jiz, and felt some satisfaction in bringing him
off first.  Scott rolled over onto his back and wiped his forehead with his
forearm.  "Fucking..." he gasped and swallowed hard, though there was no
moisture in his mouth.  "Fucking-A, Frank!"  Frank swallowed again, sucking
hard on the top of his own tongue, and just smiled as he groped himself even
harder through his own jeans.

     When he saw Jesse stroking his own fat tool so furiously while he
hungrily sucked and swallowed Marty's meat, Frank patted Scott's thigh to
excuse himself, and rolled over, past Danny's feet and zeroed in on his
roommate's staunch soldier.  Frank yanked Jesse's jeans down to his ankles,
then tapped his jerking fist, to swat it away.  He opened wide to dive onto
the familiar muscle he'd gone down on so many times before.  Scott returned
to Danny's slick pole, and he resumed his sucking, but at a faster pace than
before.  Jesse's moan sent shock waves through Marty that caused him to
release Danny's nuts from between his lips and groan his own lusty
appreciation.  "Goddammit, Jesse!  Yeah!  That's it!  Suck that fucker.
Fuck!  You got such a hot fuckin' talented mouth!"  He suddenly jerked
upright and his dick popped out of the mouth and slapped his abs.  Marty
grasped it and his gaze locked on a spot high on the wall over Scott's
bobbing head.  "My nuts!  Suck my fucking nuts!"  Marty begged as his hand
furiously stroked.  Jesse brought his head up and he happily sucked both of
the dancing orbs into his mouth and sucked hard.  "Ooooohhhh
Ffuuuuuuuuuuck!"  Marty's hips bucked and his upper torso went completely
rigid.  Scott felt a warm glob of Marty's juice land on his back, then
another on his cheek.  He never broke the pace or rhythm of his ministering
to Danny's delicious muscle.  He heard Marty gasp a few more times, then let
out a long sighing exhale.  "Fuckin' A, Bro!  You're a fucking wonder!"

     Scott felt Marty rub his head.  "C'mon bud!  My turn.  You gotta
share."  Scott grinned, mouth still full of cock.  He went all the way down,
burying his nose in Danny's public hair.   Then a mere centimeter at a time,
he very slowly raised his head, increasing the suction as Danny's tingling
tool crept from between his lips.  Danny growled and Marty giggled.  From
the corner of his eye, Scott saw Marty's face moving in, and felt his tongue
on his cheek as he cleaned off his own juice.  Finally, Danny's head popped
out from between Scott's lips.  Marty grabbed onto the slippery, erect snake
and thrust his head downward.  Danny's head jerked off of the floor.  "Ohhh,
My...Fucking...God!"  His hips began thrusting up and down, driving the head
of his cock into Marty's gullet.

      Recalling the effect that Marty's earlier attention to Danny's nipples
had, Scott scooted up and hungrily sucked the right one in between his lips.
  His hand slid down the taut torso and found Danny's scrotum, and he began
a fairly rough rubbing and tugging on the generous globes inside.  The
combination of this hot attention to his dick, his sack and his chest was
too much for Danny to hold back any longer.  His toes curled and a sudden
series of spasms rocked his whole body as he began an almost violent filling
of Marty's mouth.  "Errrrrrrrrrrrrgggghhhhhh!  Yeah!  Yeah!  Fuck, Marty!
Take my fucking load!"  Marty moaned as his head slowed down to allow him to
savor his buddy's juice.

     Danny lay back, working to catch his breath as Marty continued to lick
him clean.  Scott sat back on his heels, then reached up for a napkin, and
found he could just barely reach around and wipe Marty's cum from his upper
back.  Marty's face came up smiling, and he wiped it with the back of his
arm, then the flat of his hand swept across his forehead.  He looked down
and grinned, then patted Danny's still heaving stomach.  "That's my boy!
That's the Danny I remember."  Both men chuckled lightly.

     Danny looked to his left and his eyes suddenly went wide.  "Holy Fuck!"
  Both Scott and Marty's eyes both followed Danny's, and each one
immediately appreciated the object of Danny's amazement.  Frank was on his
back now, his pants down around his knees.  Jesse was poised over him, one
knee on each side of his head.  His head was bobbing up and down on Frank's
massive rod, assisted by a stroking and twisting hand.  "How big IS that
mother fucker?"  Danny looked back and forth between the guys.  "Seriously!
What is that...about ten, eleven inches?"

     Scott smiled.  "He only claims credit for nine, but I think he's being
modest."  He looked over at guys and their sixty-nine session.  "Jesse, show
off a bit for our buddy here."  Jesse took the hint and removed his hand.
All three watched as Frank's monster slowly disappeared until Jesse's nose
was resting firmly in between Frank's nuts.  He held it there for a few
seconds, and the murmurs coming out of Frank, and the unbelieving laughter
coming from Danny.  "Jesus...Fucking...Christ!!  The guy's a bottomless pit!
Damn, Jesse!  You ought to be in the fucking circus or something."  Just as
slowly, Jesse's head came back up, and the panting coming from below told
him he'd shortly be rewarded in full.  To encourage Frank, he thrust his own
hips a few quick times, fucking his face as his hand returned to the monster
cock below him.  A few more strokes and a few more pushes of his wide
manhood into Frank's mouth, and both men began firing their loads.  They
could see Jesse swallowing greedily as Frank's hips jolted up and down and
could hear the slurping sound of Frank eagerly trying to devour everything
Jesse was offering.  After another few seconds, Jesse rolled off his
roommate, a satisfied smile on his face, breathing hard.  He wiped his mouth
and patted Frank's thigh.  Frank just uttered a muffled giggle.

     About forty-five minutes after the Badgers made a couple of laps around
the field, celebrating a 35 to 20 victory and wielding The Axe above their
heads, the guys were settled into seats on the light rail train that would
take them out to the Mall of America.  "Twenty minutes, tops!" Danny had
promised.  "Biggest fucking mall in the goddam country, with an aquarium in
the basement, an amusement park with a roller coaster on the ground floor,
and a shit-load of bars on the top floor!  We gotta go there!!"  The guys
already knew of The Mall, and were amused that Danny seemed to think that
they were so ignorant.  Surprisingly, they were the only five in their car,
so Marty got bold and pulled out his little glass vial with the small liver
spoon chained to the screw-on top.  He helped himself to a heaping helping
and sniffed deeply.  Then, he held up the same serving for each of his four
friends to lean in and inhale through their nostrils.

     They occupied a corner booth in The Great American Sports Bar on the
fourth floor of the mall.  Four of them slid into the semi-circular bench
behind the large round table, and Marty pulled up a chair on the outside.
Danny immediately laid the front of his foot on top of Scott's, and he
didn't budge.  Marty nudged his knee with his own and wiggled his brows.

     "G'd afternoon, Marsha!  How's your day goin' so far?"  Marty read the
nametag of the buxom twenty-something cocktail server, and before she could
even begin her usual spiel with the newcomers, he had disarmed her with his
twinkling eyes and bright smile.

     "Pretty good, so far, sir.  But I just came on, the day's early, and
I'm here `til close."  She surveyed the logos emblazoned on the guys' attire
and put on her best smile.  "But you football crowds are usually a pretty
good time, so I'm optimistic."  She winked at Marty before he had the chance
to dish out one of his own.  He was impressed.  Her chocolate complexion was
a stunning contrast to the whitest teeth and the reddest lipstick any of the
guys had ever seen.

     "Well, lovely lady, you have much good reason to be optimistic about
us.  We're about as much fun as you're gonna find anywhere.  We're gonna
make your day!"

     Marsha raised her brows and mugged a little for the guys.  "Careful,
big boy!  I heard some wild stories about you naughty boys from The
Dairyland.  But, you need to know, it takes a whooooooole lot to make
Marsha's day!"  She giggled and put a hand on his shoulder.  "Now, what can
I get you boys?"

     Danny jumped into the fray.  "Ignore the little blowhard, Marsha!  He
could never make your day, or even your hour for that matter.  Talk to the
local boy here!  We'll have a round of Leinenkugel's, red please, and then
we'll probably order some munchies.  Anything you recommend?"

     "Well, local boy, the wings are outstanding, the quesa dilla with the
works on top is to die for, and for the guys from Wisconsin, the deep-fried
cheese curds generally get a huge thumbs-up from you folks on the other side
of the river.  You boys mull it over and I'll go get the beers.  I take it
you two are buying?"  She looked at Frank and Jesse, and considered their
attire with a sympathetic frown.  "Don't worry, guys.  We'll get `em next
year and bring The Axe home."

     The first round of Leine's went down quickly while the five watched the
Army-Navy game on one of the big screens.  Marty swatted Scott's arm.  "Hey,
bud.  You're in the biggest mall in the country.  You're not going back to
see Kelly again empty handed, are you?"

     Scott grinned.  "Oh, Shit!  Good idea!  Maybe there's something I can
pick up for the folks, too."  He nudged Danny.  "Hey, you know your way
around here.  Help me find a t-shirt shop or something."  Danny nodded and
finished his beer.  Scott looked around "Anybody else comin?"  Frank and
Jesse continued to survey the appetizer menu and Marty declared the need to
take a leak.

     Frank shook his head.  "We'll order some munchies, so hurry back.
We'll have some eats and another round waiting when you get back."

     Danny grabbed his coat and slid out of the booth behind Scott.  As they
neared the saloon's exit, Scott looked at the jacket.  "We're not going
outside, are we?"

     Danny shrugged.  "Prolly not, but I don't like to leave it laying
around.  If the guys get up to shoot some pool or something, I don't want to
lose it."

     They took two escalators down to the second floor of the shopping
mecca, and strolled across a walkway past the roller coaster that was the
centerpiece of "Camp Snoopy," the mall's amusement park with a "Peanuts"
theme.  Danny pointed to a Shirt Shack and they turned right.  After only
about ten minutes, Scott had four t-shirts in his hands.  Two of them were
identical, one for Kelly and one for Maureen.  "A Woman's Place is in the
House" it said on the front.  "And in the Senate" was printed across the
back.  For Big Scott, "Lawyers Do It In Their Briefs," and Suzanne's
advertised "Decorators Do It With Style."

     Danny grinned and rolled his eyes at the corny attire.  His single
dimple still captivated and intrigued Scott.  Scott looked again at the
decorator's shirt.  "Mom will never wear it.  Not outside of the house,
anyway."  As they were waiting in the check-out line, Danny tapped Scott's
shoulder.  "Hey...just saw somebody I know.  Meetcha outside when you're
done."

     Scott nodded and watched closely as Danny's wonderfully round bubble
butt turned the corner at the store's exit.  When he got back outside, Danny
was talking with a guy in a maintenance uniform, hanging onto a cart full of
tools and cleaning implements.  He had black, buzz cut hair and was built
like a wrestler, his thick neck and bulging arms barely contained by the
work shirt he wore.  His green eyes reminded Scott of Kelly's.  The guy
smiled and nodded at Danny, and he glanced Scott's way before they bumped
fists and the stranger was on his way.  Danny gestured toward the muscled
butt striding away from the two of them.  "The dude lives in my apartment
complex," Danny explained as Scott caught up with him.  "Really good shit,
but haven't seen him around much lately."

     Scott just nodded again and started off in the direction from which he
thought they had come.  Danny grabbed his arm.  "No, man.  This way.  I know
a short cut," and he led the way in the opposite direction.  After passing
about ten or twelve storefronts, he turned left down an unmarked hallway
leading away from the general shopping area.  At the last door on the right,
Danny stopped and grabbed the doorknob.  He looked over his shoulder and
flashed that single dimple once again.  "This way, bud."  Scott assumed
they'd be heading into a stairwell,  so he stepped in closely behind Danny.

     Danny's hand reached to the right and he flipped on a switch.  As the
room lit up, his left hand reached down and behind, coming to rest directly
on Scott's crotch.  He gently squeezed Scott's dick as the door slammed
shut.  "What the...?"  Danny turned around and reached behind Scotty, pushing
the button to lock the door.  He pulled Scott forward by the hips and
reached down to grabbed his ass with both hands.  "Relax, dude!  My buddy
works out of this room, and said he won't be back for another half hour at
least." He pulled Scott's torso tight, and ground their crotches together.

     Scott was still stunned.  "Are you fucking nuts?  What if...?"  The
question was abruptly cut short by Danny's lips and tongue.  After a few
seconds, Scott regained his bearings and returned the kiss.

     Danny pulled back and his eyes bore into Scott's. "Yeah...I'm fucking
nuts.  I'm nuts for your cock!  I'm the only one who hasn't had a dick in
his mouth all day, and I want yours."  He gyrated his hips, grinding into
the swelling front of Scott's Levi's.   "Fuck, Scott!  I laid there and
watched Frank mowing down on your meat and was jealous!  That, and the fine
attention you gave me at half-time, and I figure I owe you one.  Let me have
it, dude!  It's not like we're going to be in here all day."  Scott's lusty
smile, followed by the tongue that swept between his lips gave Danny the
green light he was hoping for.

		Scott's belt might just as well never have even existed, as quickly as it
was unhitched, and he felt his pants sliding over his ass cheeks before he'd
even finished licking his lips.  Danny's dropped from his view and, in a
flash, a wet warmth consumed the length of his cock.  Slowly, Danny's head
rose and fell, from Scott's pubes and back up to where only the head
remained between his lips.  He gently massaged it with his tongue and played
in and out of the slit.  He could feel Scott's appreciation for his efforts
in the rapid expansion and thickening of his meat.  Danny's hands worked
furiously at his own belt, button and zipper, and he quickly had his own
hard skin missile in his fist, stroking in rhythm with the mouth massage he
was giving his new friend.  His other hand dropped and found the lace of
Scott's left shoe, and untying it and loosening the laces.  Then he then
tapped the foot, cock still in his mouth, and cupped the back of the shoe
with his free hand.  Scott took the cue, and lifted his foot out and through
the leg of his pants.  Now free to spread his legs a bit, he leaned back,
elbows on the counter behind him, and he enjoyed the sight and sensation
served up by the striking blond stud below him.  Danny released the steaming
member, and pressed it up against Scott's abs, and then playfully lapped at
Scott's nuts, darting and jabbing the tip of his tongue first at the left,
then the right.  He moved in and sucked one, then the other into his mouth,
rolling it around on the top of his tongue as he began a two-finger massage
of Scott's firm perineum.  His friend moaned his approval of the action and
spread his legs a bit further to assure Danny's access.  Danny's fingers
moved further, inching their way between Scott's cheeks and they snaked
their way up into his crack.  As he continued giving Scott's balls a tongue
bath, he found his puckered entrance with his middle finger and massaged and
teased Scott's hole.

     Danny released Scott's sack, and wet the same finger before descending
once again on Scott's aching tool.  He twisted and turned his head as he
went up and down, ensuring that Scott's lower head reached every corner of
his hungry mouth.  Scott whispered his delight.  "Another stunning example
of the fact that guys give better head than chicks.  You're a fucking
master, Danny!"  Even with his mouth full, Danny managed to grin and a nod.
That damned, irresistible dimple seemed to be winking at Scott.  Danny's wet
finger returned to Scott's hole, this time entering up to the first knuckle.
  "Whoa!  Easy there big guy!  You know I..."

     Danny looked up and Scott's tool snapped out of his mouth.  "Easy,
chief!  I know you're a top...or at least always have been.  Somebody's
getting fucked in here today, and it's not going to be you!  Just relax, and
go with me on this."  His face submerged again, devouring Scott in one swift
motion and Scott's head fell back with a sigh.  Scott could feel Danny's
finger encroach further into his ass, but he was engrossed in the delightful
feelings swimming through his groin from the magic that was Danny Huber's
mouth.  A little further in, and Danny found what he was looking for.  He
swallowed the head of Scott's pecker into his throat and rubbed the nut.
After two or three passings of his finger over Scott's prostate, Scott
bolted nearly upright.

     "Whhooooaaa  fuck!  Danny!  I'm gonna...I'm gonna."

     Danny released both Scott's member and his hole, and stood up grinning.
  "No you're not.  Not yet, anyway"

     Scott's eyes were still wide and he was gasping.  "Fucking-A.  That
fucking jolt damned near had me explode.  I coulda flooded you with all I
got just now!"  Danny giggled and pulled Scott's face to his.  They sucked
at each other's lips and tongues while Danny pushed his pants down to his
knees.  Scott gripped Danny's tool firmly and stroked, sliding the foreskin
back and forth, and greasing its entire length in a generous amount of
precum.  Danny toed off one shoe, and managed to wrangle his foot free of
one leg of his pants.  Scott tugged at the bottom hem of Danny's t-shirt,
and slid it up to where their chins met.  Their faces parted to allow him to
pull it up and over Danny's head, hooking it on the back of his neck.

     Danny's lean, firm form and six-pack abs were heaving and glistening
with a modest amount of sweat.  His pecs were the picture of perfection as
far as Scott was concerned.  Scott lowered his face and his tongue darted
out, swiping at Danny's right nipple.  He heard a sharp gasp.  He locked his
lips around the quarter-sized circle and sucked, and Danny moaned and rubbed
the back of his head.  That longing cock twitched in Scott's firm, stroking
grasp in response to the nipple play.  Scott turned his attention to the
other one, and repeated the moves, but this time nibbling gently on the firm
nub.  Danny moaned again.  "Oooooooohhh, fuck, man.  God, I fucking love
that!"  Danny pushed him back gently to give him room to bend over and grab
his jacket from the floor.  He reached into the pocket and brought out a
plastic wrapped rubber and a small tube of lube.  He leered at Scott, and
the naughty little dimple told him that this man wanted to get fucked.

     Danny unwrapped the condom and unrolled it a couple of inches.  He
wrapped the head, then, using only his lips, made an "o" tightly around the
top of Scott's steel-hard tool, and slowly slid downward, and had to focus
on the task to avoid grinning at the moan he'd inspired.  He squeezed a
generous amount of lube into his hand and slowly greased the object of his
lust, then handed the tube to Scott and turned around.  He bent over the
counter and looked back.  "Lube me up good, buddy, and you gotta go slow.
It's been a while.  But, damn, Scott!  I wanted you inside me, the minute we
met."

     Scott smiled as he slowly rubbed a healthy amount of lubricant around
Danny's quivering rosebud.  With his other hand, he lightly rubbed Danny's
muscular back.  "Same here, Danny.  What a fine, fucking ass.  And Marty's
right.  You look so fucking hot in a jockstrap."  He slowly inserted his
middle finger past the sphincter muscle, and held it there as he continued
to rub.  Danny nodded hid head and Scott took the cue to proceed.  Soon his
entire finger was inside his hot, very tight hole.  "Mmmmmnnnnn, doing
okay."  Scott pulled back and added his index finger as he pushed back
inside.  He twisted his hand, left and right a few times before pulling and
pushing in and out a couple of times.  "Yeah  man!  Enough of the fingers.
I need your fucking cock inside of me."

     Scott positioned his cock at Danny's entrance, and brought the head to
it's target.  He slowly pushed.  The resistance to the invader was
considerable.  Danny winced a little, then got his bearings and pushed out a
bit, and Scott saw and felt his head disappear.  Danny gasped, then exhaled
slowly through his nose.  Scott waited, and rubbed Danny's cheeks and his
thighs, and he sensed him relaxing.  He proceeded slowly, a couple more
inches and paused again when Danny groaned.  He rubbed Danny's back some
more and waited for a signal to move in.  When he got the nod, he went in
further, slowly, and, feeling or hearing no resistance, he was soon
completely buried, his pubes nestled between Danny's smooth ass cheeks.
Scott reached up and rubbed Danny's shoulders.  "Having fun yet?"  He leaned
down and licked between his shoulder blades.

     Danny took a deep breath.  "Ooooohhh, yeah, man.  This is what I need."

     Scott slowly withdrew until just the head of his aching cock remained
buried.  "Tight fucking hole, man.  God!  What a sweet fucking ass you got
here stud!"

     Danny looked over his shoulder and half grinned, half snarled.  "Well,
you got it now, big man.  What're you gonna do with it?"

     Scott gritted his teeth and pushed in again, causing a low growl to
emerge from in front of him.  He pulled nearly all the way out and then back
in in a single fluid motion and Danny's hand slapped the table.  Scott quit
rubbing Danny's back, and took hold of Danny's hips, sliding a couple of
fingers beneath the elastic of the waist band of the jock.  As he began to
work into a modest rhythm, Danny's gasps met every thrust.  Soon his head
was swaying back and forth and he was whispering "yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"
with each forward push.  Scott replied with one long, "mmmmmmmmmmmm
mmhhhhhhhhnnnnnnn" while he smoothly brought his hips forward and back.  He
looked at the back of Danny's head.  "Likin' it Danny?  You like having this
dick up your beautiful hole, buddy?"

     Danny looked to his side.  "Fuck yeah, Scotty!  Gimme more, dude!  Bang
my fucking ass, you stud!"  Scott reached up and grabbed Danny's shoulders
firmly.  He thrust forward with a vengeance this time, and followed with
rapid short bursts forward and back.  Danny whined his glee through gritted
teeth, then reached back and smacked Scott's ass.  He grabbed at Scott's ass
cheek and muttered, "yeah...that's it...you fucker!  Gimme that big dick, man!
Fuck me!  Fuck me!"

     Scott was nearly laying, chest down, flat on Danny's back, grabbing his
biceps for leverage as he ground his groin as deeply as he could between
Danny's cheeks.  He licked and sucked on the side and back of Danny's neck,
savoring the sweat and the sound of Danny's moans.  He could feel his own
orgasm beginning to build, and stood back up and grabbed Danny's hips once
again.  He began a serious long-dicking of his buddy, slamming into his ass
cheeks with each thrust and bringing another gutteral "yeah!" with every
slapping contact.

     He gasped.  "Oh, god!  Fuck it, Danny!  I'm getting' close, dude!  Real
close!!"

     "Go for it, bud!  Blow that load!  Let me feel that rubber blow up,
buddy!"  Danny clenched his muscles around Scott's invading missile, and
Scott growled.  He thrust three more times, then leaned his shoulders back,
pulling Danny's hips back into him and held him there.  His body quaked and
his vision blurred as he was wracked by four successive orgasmic jolts.
"Fffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, Danny!  Oooooooooooohhh Fffffuuuuuucking..." Danny
smiled as he felt the condom deep inside of him rapidly fill through several
short bursts.

     Danny stood mostly straight, but reached behind to hold Scott close and
still inside of him.  He clenched his teeth and his eyelids together,
grasped his aching and drooling member in his fist, and stroked furiously.
Scott could feel his muscles tense and relax as Danny's body called for the
orgasm that was rapidly approaching.  In support, he reached around with
both hands and found Danny's nipples.  Lightly pinching and pulling on them,
he moved up and down on his toes, sliding his still mostly-hard cock up and
down over Danny's prostate.  Suddenly Danny's eyelids blew open wide and his
mouth formed a broad, stunned oval.  He made no sound as the first and
second blasts shot forth, splattering the wall and the top end of the work
table.  Finally, he coughed and gasped, continuing to stroke, and emitted
something that sounded like a laugh and "Oohh God!  God Dammit!"  His hips
bucked again and two more rapid-fire shots of jizz arced up in the air and
onto the table's middle.  He gasped again.  "Ffffuuuuuuuuuck, Scott!
Ooooohhhhh Fuuuuck!"  He felt three more modest helpings of cum ooze out and
over the back of his fingers and onto the floor between his feet.  He
slumped forward onto the table, and Scott's semi-hard cock slid from his
hole.  He was breathing heavily, and Scott leaned over and rubbed his back.

     "Damn!  Nice shootin' Tex!"

     Danny laughed through his continued gasping.  "Thanks, Bud!"  He took a
few more breaths, then swallowed hard.  "Dude!  You really put me over the
brink there at the end!  Shit!  I don't know when I've ever cum like that!"
He looked over his shoulder,  that damned dimple winking at Scott again.
"Marty told me your were a pretty good fuck, but Damn!"  He wiped his
forehead

     Scott took a deep breath and then slapped his ass lightly, and
registered shock on his face.  "Pretty good?!  That fucker said just `pretty
good?'"

     Danny stood up and cupped Scott's balls in his hand.  "Naw.  What he
said is that he taught you most of what you know in the sack with another
guy, so I knew you'd be great.  But that...that was just...Damn!"

     Scott giggled.  "Well, when you learn from the best..."  Danny leaned in
and pressed their lips together.

     All dressed and ready to go, Danny slowly opened the door and peered in
both directions.  He motioned with a nod of his head that the coast was
clear, and two happy campers exited the maintenance room.  They'd found some
paper towels and cleaned up the table and floor, tossing the waste in an
idle cart.  As they started back down the hallway, they both adopted a pace
and posture of two guys who were where they belonged, and knew where they
were going.

     Scott snickered and asked, "So, how'd you know?"

     Danny tried to look the innocent.  "Uhm, know what?"

     Scott patted his shoulder.  "How the hell did you know that room was a
safe spot?  You were pretty awfully going in."

     Danny blushed and nodded, but they kept walking.  "The guy I was
talking to?  He's kind of an ex of mine.  I did him in there about three
months ago.  We went different ways since then, but we're still on good
terms.  I'm guessing that when he laid eyes on you a little while ago, he
was jealous."  He nudged Scott's ribs with an elbow as they walked toward
the escalator.  Danny laughed a little.  "I'll bet he's wishing he was a fly
on the damned wall the past half hour."

     Danny led the way back into the sports bar.  The corner booth was
empty, but there were half-full plates of appetizers and two beers waiting
for them.  Looking around, Scott caught the sight of Marty near the rear,
standing firm with a dart aimed squarely forward and with purpose.  The two
each grabbed a beer, and a chicken wing before heading toward the back.  On
the way past the bar, Marsha caught Scott's eye.  "The guys were worried you
boys got lost.  I told them that `Local Boy' was leading the way and that
you'd be back."  Scott asked her to order a plate of the "Macho Nachos" and
deliver it to the game room.  She winked and nodded.  "You got it,
Cheesehead."

     Jesse was leaning against a pinball machine.  "Shit!  We thought we
lost you guys.  Figured you were riding the roller coaster or something."

     Marty's eyes did a double take toward the floor.  Scott caught a
not-too-obvious effort to stifle a giggle.  "Yeah, or riding something..." he
mouthed, but nobody heard it.

     Between the five of them, they'd managed to relocate the remaining
food, drinks and coats from the booth to the back room, and they basically
took the place over, but nobody minded.  They were fun.  They were
entertaining.  It's hard to toss darts with five guys, so they took turns
playing Cricket, each time the low scoring man sitting out and buying the
next round.   As he was currently out of the game, Marty plugged in some
tunes, and surprised one member of a group of female Gopher fans with a spin
around the pool table to Louis Armstrong's "It's a Wonderful World."
Naturally, she couldn't resist.  Not to be outdone, each of the others put
down their darts and they all grabbed another partner from the group of
thirty-something former co-eds dressed in Minnesota's colors, and they
worked to match Marty's expert steps, to no avail.   Keeping up with Marty
Anderson in just about anything, especially anything fun and spontaneous,
was as close to futile as one could ever get.  Still, they all figured it
was a healthy gesture of good will.  Plus, the woman Frank was dancing with
was pretty hot, and she grabbed his ass.

        One by one, Marty guided Frank's, the Jesse's eyes to follow his own
downward, and each time a laughing fit was barely avoided.  Scott and Danny
looked at each other with a puzzled exchange, but dismissed it.  From time
to time, giggles broke out among the other three.  Scott just figured they'd
found a way to fire up another joint inside the mall somewhere, and it was
entirely possible that they'd been dipping into some `snow' in October,
while Scott was dipping into Danny.  `Fair enough,' he thought to himself.



     "Hey, Sal!  How's it hanging?"  Marty shouted across the lobby as he
emerged from the revolving door, the other four filing in behind him.  A
fifty-something woman in a fur coat, who looked like she hadn't been laid
since she was in college, clearly saw red at the young ruffian's vulgar
question.  Marty winked at her and blew her a kiss.

     "Marty!  Boys!"  Sal sported a bright broad smile as he strode across
the lobby.  He looked at the uptight woman.  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Braimbridge.
He's a college kid, but a really good boy."  He looked back at the gang of
five.  "You boys havin' a good time?"  He frowned at Frank and Jesse.  "So,
The Axe goes back to MadTown, I hear.  Oh, well.  Next year."

     Sal scrutinized all five faces, focusing narrowly on the eyes.  "Yeah,
looks like you guys are having a very good time!"  He looked directly at
Frank.  "You're bein' careful, right?  Not doin' anything that could getcha
hurt, huh?"

     Frank giggled.  "Not to worry, Uncle Sal.  We know the limits.  We're
havin' a real good time, but we're bein' careful and not overdoin' it.  You
can relax.  And, hey!  Thanks again for the room!"  The four others laughed
and nodded their appreciation to Frank's uncle.

     Sal pinched Frank's cheek as the other guys chuckled.  "My brother
would kill me if somethin' was to happen to you while you were stayin' here
at `Sal's House.'  So, be good.  I mean, have fun, but be good."

     Frank blushed.  "No problem, Uncle Sal.  We're not even goin' out to
raise hell anymore tonight!  It's barely 10:30, and we're already in, and
stayin' in.  Gonna hang in the room, maybe play some cards or somethin' and
then order a pizza or somethin' later."

     Sal patted his cheek and Frank blushed a bit more at the attention.
"You're a good boy, Frankie."  He looked around at the crew.  "And you got
good friends.  That's nice.  Real Nice"  He looked at his watch.  "Well,
boys, time for me to head home to the missus.  I'll see you tomorrow at
check-out, okay?"

     All the guys said goodnight and thanked Sal again as he walked over to
the desk to give a few more directions for the night shift.  Kory stood
behind the desk with the receptionist, and smiled back at the guys, paying
special attention to the tall blond who had joined the troupe.

     Scott's key card was in the slot first.  He tossed the door open.
After his earlier romp with Danny in the mall closet, some pretty good
nachos and some buffalo wings, another couple of Leine's and a couple of
spoonfuls of Marty's best stuff, he felt nourished and jazzed, and was on a
mission for the rest of the night.  They all were.

     "Who wants what?"  Jesse went straight for the coolers and the ice
maker that was built into the fridge.  Danny and Frank each ordered another
beer.  Scott decided to switch to bourbon and coke, and Marty agreed to join
him.  Jesse made himself a tall vodka and sour.  Scott found a classic rock
station on the stereo while Frank found a joint and started to roll a second
one.  Marty stared cutting out lines of white powder on his small mirror
perched on the coffee table.  Danny picked up the deck of cards that Marty
had tossed on the table and shuffled them in his hands.  Then, he held the
deck in his right hand and cut the cards, squaring them over and over with a
deft manipulation of his fingers.

     "Very impressive!  Do you do card tricks, too?  Any...like...magic?"  Jesse
asked as he handed out the drinks he'd mixed and the bottles he'd opened.

     Marty looked up from the little mirror on which he'd carved out ten
thin lines of cocaine, and grinned.  "Oh, Jesse, he does a lot of tricks,
and those agile fingers can work a lot more magic than that!"  He rolled up
a dollar bill and handed the mirror and the dollar straw to Frank.

     Danny chuckled.  "Don't you know it!  How `bout it guys?  Another game
of poker?  Today's round at the Dome was a good one, and Marty had a good
run at the casino yesterday.  How `bout we keep the gaming going this
weekend with a friendly game of poker?"

     Jesse looked apprehensive.  "Friendly?  What stakes?  I don't have a
lot of extra cash to lose."

     Danny leered at him.  "Oh, you have plenty to play with.  Lots to win
and just enough to lose. Let's go back to high school for a while!  Let's
play a good old-fashioned game of strip poker, boys.  Simple five-card draw,
the two jokers are still in the deck as wild cards."

     Marty hit the joint Frank had just lit and handed it to Scott.  "What
the fuck?  I did have a good stroke of luck in The Dells yesterday, and
Danny was the winner today."  Both Scott and Danny grinned and exchanged a
memory-filled glance, and Marty succeeded in not laughing out loud.  He
looked at the other three.  "Maybe one of you guys will hit the jackpot
tonight!"  Marty slapped Danny's thigh.  "And, what are the stakes, my man?"

     Danny had thought about it.  "Okay...how `bout this: first one naked
loses, and he dances for the rest of us.  Then, we just take it from there."

     Scott coughed on the hit he'd just taken.  "Dances?  To what?"

     Frank's imagination was going strong.  "You just turned on the tunes,
bud.  Whatever the next full song is when we have a loser...he gives the rest
of us a show."

     Danny took charge again.  "Okay, we'll play on the floor.  Marty, grab
the other end."  He took the coffee table by the corners and he and Marty
moved it out of the way.  "No sense in sitting at a table.  Could obstruct
the view...or the occasional grope."  He sat back down on the carpeting and
motioned for the rest to join as he returned to shuffling the cards.
"Alright...The Rules.  Our shoes are already off.  We're in our shirts, pants,
socks and, if memory serves, everybody's wearing underwear, or a jock.  Four
items of clothing.  Each hand, low man loses something.  No counting rings,
watches, belts, whatever.  We're wearing them but that shit don't count."
Frank put his cap back on.  "None of that bullshit either, Frankie!  The cap
was off a second ago.  It doesn't count.  Four items of clothing.  If you're
wearing an undershirt, it comes off when you bare your top."   Danny reached
over and playfully pinched Jesse's nipple.  "I look forward to yours being
peeled off!"  He was feeling fine, and cocky.

     After seven hands, Marty and Scott had only lost their socks, and Danny
was in his jockstrap and socks only.  He was teasing.  Frank sat in his
jeans and boxers, no socks, no shirt.  When Jesse lost his first hand, he
left his socks on and peeled off the sweatshirt and the muscle shirt beneath
it, mostly to entertain Danny.  "Hey, do that thing, Jesse!  Make `em
dance," Frank taunted.  Slowly at first, on the right, then the left, then
the right again, his pecs pulsed and jumped as Jesse flexed.  Bobby McFarrin
was woo wooing through the intro to "Don't Worry, Be Happy" and Jesse's
chest muscles hopped along with the rhythm.

     "Here's a little song I wrote" they danced.

     As the laughter to Jesse's little show subsided, Scott called a short
time out for refreshments, and took drink orders.  Frank found another joint
and fired it up as Marty cut up another ten small lines.  Danny got up off
the floor and moseyed toward the bathroom, the smooth globes between the
white straps flexing with each step.  He knew all eyes were on his enviable
ass, and he loved the exhibitionism he was indulging.  "I think you should
start your dance now, Danny!  It'll let the rest of you catch up with that
cute butt," Frank teased from across the room.  Danny wiggled his hips a
couple of times and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

     Jimmy Buffet was singing the virtues of "Margaritaville," with the help
of the four UW students when Danny sat back down and crossed his legs,
letting the full pouch rest comfortably between his open thighs.  Four more
hands, and Jesse was in bare feet, but clothed fully from the waist down.
Scott's shirt was gone, as was Marty's.  Frank's jeans were tossed on the
couch, and the head of his monster cock peeked through the left leg of his
boxers.  "Jesus, Frank!  Does that fucker have its own zip code?" Danny
asked in wonderment.

     Frank parted his crossed legs a little further, and leaned back on both
hands.  "Yup.  You're a good boy the rest of the night, and I might tell you
what it is."  Danny licked his lips.  On the next hand, Danny failed to even
scrape together a pair of deuces.

     Marty leaned over his own crossed legs and stretched out his arms.
"Here.  Let me."  He grabbed Danny's right ankle and slowly peeled off the
white cotton.  Their eyes locked as Marty took hold of the other calf and
held it up.  He hooked his index finger inside the top hem of the sock and
slowly pulled, then held up the foot and looked around the room with the
mischief everyone in the room recognized.  "He's ticklish guys.  Wanna see?"
  Before Danny could react, Marty's face lowered and he held a firm grip on
Danny's calf and ankle.

     "Nooooo.  You fucker!" but Marty had a firm hold and Danny had no
leverage from his position on the floor.  Marty grinned over the toes and
his tongue darted out.  He ran it from heel to the bottom of Danny's middle
toes, then back down as Danny squirmed and squealed, and his head fell back
onto the cushion of the love seat behind him.  "Don't!  Goddammit, Marty!"
The others burst out laughing.  "You're killin' me here you shit!  Stop!"

     Marty released his prey and sat back, and took a drink, grinning with
closed lips as he swallowed.  "You still taste pretty good though, but I
knew that this afternoon."  Jesse faltered on the next hand, and was only
too happy to make a short show out of slowly peeling off his tight jeans.
"At least I wore some Wisconsin red today," he boasted as his brightly
colored Speedo came into view.  The fabric barely covered his muscular ass,
and the wide bulge in front already gave evidence of a small wet spot.

     It was Frank's turn to deal.  "Could be the last hand, boys.  Danny
comes up with another pair of twos, we can see if his moves live up to his
looks in that strap, but only it'll be out of that strap."  Danny waved one
hand in Frank's direction as if to dismiss the prediction, and used the
other to adjust his package before taking the burning joint from Scott.
After the deal and the draw, Frank looked around and smiled.  He laid down
his cards, all red with no diamonds.  "Heart flush, gents!  And you?"

     Marty giggled as his cards went down.  "I drew one and got the one I
prayed for.  A straight to the king, all natural, no jokers!"

     Scott sighed, a bit worried about the strength of the two hands.
"Three Jacks, and with a wild card, but it's lookin' kinda pale with all
these studly hands."

     Jesse shrugged.  "Well, I haven't shaken it in a while, I suppose.
Marty, you gonna peel off the nylon the way you peeled off his socks?  It's
my turn for a pair of fuckin' deuces."  When Jesse laid out the five cards,
the two of clubs and two of diamonds were surrounded by shit.

     Danny shook his head and looked around at all four guys.
"Fu-King-Aaay!  Well, I s'pose you boys come all this way to visit.  I guess
it's the least I can do.  My game, my rules.  And, I'm a stickler for
rules."  He laid down his cards.  "Ace... fucking...high.  Nothing else."  The
other four roared and applauded.  Marty shouted through the raucus catcalls
and whoops.  "On you're feet, baseball boy!"  He put a hand to his ear.
"Hark!?  Is that not Ike and Tina I hear?"

     The slow, pulsing bass with a light percussion backup was beating
through the Bose.  Actually, it was only Tina Turner, and she was saying
something over the rhythmic intro. to this version of "Proud Mary," but
nobody cared. Danny was on his feet, one thumb under the wide elastic band
around his waist.  As he slowly swayed his hips in the middle of the other
four, all still on the floor, his other hand played with his right nipple.
He let the hand slowly wander over his hard, square pecs, and then it slid
slowly and softly down over his six pack and down to cup the pouch that
contained his enlarging uncut seven-plus inches.

     "Left a good job in the city..." Tina soulfully moaned.

     Danny grinned and swayed his hips a bit further now as his other thumb
hooked onto the elastic band and Tina moaned over `wokin' fo' the man every
night and day.'  The wide strap was pushed down a few inches until Danny's
neatly trimmed public hair and the base of his shaft came into view.  He did
a full turn before the four leering men below him, and was obviously
enjoying being the object of their lusty attention.

     "...Till I hitched a ride on the River Boat Queen..."

     He turned and bent over in front of Frank, his taut ass cheeks less
than a foot in front of his face and they swung back and forth slowly.
Frank gave his right cheek a playful smack.  "I'm gonna hitch a ride on this
sweet thing tonight!"

     "Big wheels keep on turnin'"

     Frank groped his growing tool in the leg of his boxers as Tina
continued.  Danny stood up quickly and turned.  He looked down with raised
brows and wide eyes that asked "You think so, do you?"  Frank smiled up at
him, slowly nodding.

     "Rolling..." Tina sang.  Danny's hips did a full circle, as Marty and
Scott did their best bass, "Rol-li-in'"

     "Rolling..."  The guys tried to complement her again as Danny completed
another full circuit of his groin and the jock was slowly lowered to his
thighs and his half-hard cock swung up and out.

     "Rolling on the riverrrrrrr..."

     Scott tried his best, deepest bass voice, slowly booming "Rolllllinng
on the rrrrivvverrrrr..."

     Damn!  Tina was good, Scott nearly held his own, but Danny was fucking
hot.

     There was a dramatic pause in the music as the strap hit the floor.

     The brass trumpets and trombones, and the pounding rhythm section
exploded in the room and Danny did a Tina Turner parody, stomping his feet
on the floor as he ran in place to the rapid rhythm of the rest of the song.
  His cock and balls bounced up and down with the frantic motion of his
lower body.  All four guys let out a howl and clapped a few times.  "Shake
that shit, boy!" Jesse was rubbing the fat bulge under the tight red bikini
brief that barely contained its contents.  They all realized very quickly
that the guy could move!  His feet, legs, hips and arms filled the air space
around him with coordination, grace and perfect timing.  He strutted to
within inches of Scott's transfixed gaze and shook his hips, wagging the
covered head of his beautiful cock.  Scott stuck out his tongue, and the
cock made contact once before the dancer took a step to the right to tease
his old friend.  Marty was perhaps the most surprised in the room, something
that didn't often occur.  He hadn't been at all certain that Danny had it in
him to perform in this way.  Danny's shoulders shimmied back and forth as he
quickly thrust his hips back and forth in front of the grinning face beneath
him.  Marty had unbuttoned his jeans by this time so that he could reach in
and give his growing member some relief and a few short strokes.  Danny's
right foot came off the floor and up to nudge Marty's hand from his crotch.
Using only his toes, he rubbed Marty's dick through the denim.  Scott and
Jesse joined Tina's back-up vocalists before the start of the third verse,
"Woo woo woo woo, Woo woo woo woo, Woo woo woo woo," then assisted the
instrumentalists, "Dah dah dum."

     With arms raised above his head, Danny turned and shook his ass in
front of the face of all four of the guys, doing a full circle of the space
between them, and getting friendly gropes and a couple of slaps that send a
jolt into his nearly rigid dancing member.  "Fuck this, I'm dying here,"
they heard Jesse complain.  They all watched him hoist his ass off the floor
and peel the tight Speedo off of his hips and down to his ankles.  He kicked
one foot up toward Danny's smiling face and flicked the foot to launch the
red nylon with impressive precision.  Danny caught them in flight and glared
down between Jesse's legs.  His eyes widened to register his admiration of
Jesse's ample equipment, then stepped toward the buff underwear donor below
him.  He brought the fabric to his face and sniffed Jesse's musky scent,
thrusting his cock in the direction of Jesse's waiting face.  He gripped the
scant underwear in his teeth, then put a hand on the top of Jesse's upturned
head and grasped his meat with the other.  Jesse opened his mouth, but was
merely scolded for his boldness with several sharp slaps on the cheeks and
chin.  Jesse grinned widely.  "You're a fucking tease!" he insisted over the
music.  Danny looked down and leered.  "And you're a fucking cock slut!"
The others all laughed and hooted their agreement.

     The last strain of the song ended in a blast of brass, and Danny fell
to the floor.  The other's all roared their approval and clapped.  He was
breathing heavily.  "Somebody get me a fucking beer!"



     There was a firm hand tightly grasping both of Kip Monmouth's ankles,
though he was oblivious to that fact.  The only sensation he was living in
at that moment was the wild, electric feeling of Andrew Pennington's rock
hard cock slamming in and out of his chute.  He ground handfuls of the
sheets beneath him in each fist and panted hoarsely.  "Oh, yeah!  That's it,
you fucker!  C'mon, Andy!  Fuck me, big man!  Fuck me harder!"  Pennington
pushed the feet back further, aiming Kip's hole almost directly at the
ceiling.  He moved from his knees to the flat of his feet on the bed and
pounded downward, grunting with each thrust.  Drops of sweat fell from his
eyebrows, the tip of his nose and his chin, sprinkling down onto the
beautiful face below him.  Kip registered shock for a moment as Andy reached
new depths and he whimpered.  "Mmmmmhhhhh, yyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaah!  Oh so
good...so fucking good!  Bang that ass, Andy!"  From deep within he could feel
the wave approaching, and Kip reached up and gripped Andy's hips and held
him inside.  His cock exploded, firing gushes of hot juice directly onto his
own face.  "Ffffuuuuuck! Oh...Oh...Oh...fffffuuuuuck"  Kip licked as much of the
surface of his face that his tongue would reach, continuing to moan and
groan and gasp.

     Pennington released Kips feet, and his cock slid free as Kip's ass
returned to the mattress.  He quickly discarded the condom and straddled
Kip.  He wiped his hand across the panting torso, scooping up as much of the
natural lube as he could and gripped his red, throbbing member.  "You like
that?  You like that man juice, Kip?"  He scooted up and put a knee a few
inches below each of Kip's armpits.  Kip just nodded in desparation, his
eyes not leaving the approaching weapon.  Pennington was stroking furiously.
  "Ready for seconds, boy?  You want my fucking cum, don't you?"  Kip licked
his lips and quickly nodded again."  Pennington grabbed the hair on the top
of his head and pulled his face forward.  "Open up, boy!  I'm gonna give you
another fucking load."  Kip opened his mouth just as Andy's hips started to
buck and his torso shook.  "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggghhhh!  Oh, shit!"  One
blast of jizm hit the back of Kip's throat, but he didn't close his lips.
He tried to push his face forward further, but really couldn't.  Andy's aim
was less accurate on the next three shots, and he spattered Kip's nose and
right cheek before finding the eager opening again.  "Ooooohhhhhhh!  Fuck,
Kip!"  He milked the rest of his load from the bright red head of his member
onto Kip's waiting tongue.  Kip looked up and smiled, savoring his new
friend's seed.  Andy fell to his side next to Kip and gasped.
"Un-fucking-real, man!  That is one sweet fucking ass."  His hand came up
and patted and rubbed Kip's pecs as he continued to catch his breath.  Kip
just giggled.

     They lay there, silent and nearly motionless for about five minutes.
Both men had good reason to be exhausted.

     The previous night, Kip had excused himself from the usual Friday
evening bash at the house and had discreetly joined Andy in his room.  On
his walk over to The Concourse, he replayed his only other encounter with
Andrew Pennington, the previous July.  He could still see and hear Andy
bending into the elm tree not far from the rest area, moaning and grunting
his encouragement as Kip rode his ass.  His cock was already hard when he
stepped onto the elevator.  He hadn't been in the room more than ten minutes
when he had Andy bent over the desk and each man enjoyed their reflection in
the wall mirror while Kip gave his older buddy a repeat performance of that
fucking near the woods.  A little while later, after wiping Andy's cum off
of the desktop, Kip had been on all fours near the edge of the bed, cheeks
parted and Pennington on his knees on the floor, eating out his tight pink
hole.  Kip moaned and squirmed his approval while Andy loosened up the
twitching pucker with one, then two, then three lubed fingers.  It had been
a while, Kip had cautioned, so Andy felt the need to prepare him to welcome
his own larger pole.  Kip had taken it like a hungry bottom whore, and he
nearly chewed a hole in the corner of one of the hotel's pillows.

     After a long, hot shower spent exploring each other's soapy wet bodies
further, Andy ordered some finger food and cocktails from room service, and
they got to know each other while they nibbled on hors de'ouvres and sipped
scotch and sodas.  Kip filled in Andy on some of his family history, but
dwelt on the college years.  He said, with some dissapointment, that he had
hoped to remain in Madison, following his graduation in May, and to turn his
marketing degree into an MBA, but that his dad was against it.  "Father,"
Kip explained, almost apologetically, "wants me to go back to Brookfield and
work in his public relations firm for a couple of years and then shop around
for the right graduate program."  He recounted for Andy, with some bravado,
his prominence among the campus Greek societies.   He was also unusually
candid about his initial plans regarding the Wisconsin Student Association,
and gave a pretty detailed account of how he'd been derailed by that thorn
in his side, Scott Turner.  He'd carefully omitted any reference to Kelly,
or to Marty's successful blackmail with the disk and the pictures.

     Andy munched on a chicken wing, and licked his fingers.  "Sounds like
this Turner guy is on a roll."

     Kip sneered.  "He's a fucker!  He's a self-righteous, self-important
do-gooder who thinks he's above it all."

     Andy chuckled.  "And, let's face it Kip, it sounds like he's bested you
at just about every turn in your quest to crown your own college career with
both social and political importance and affirmation.  On top of that, he's
an upstart Freshman, and you're an exalted Senior who's a Big Man on Campus.
  Is this a principled opposition to what you think he's after, to what he
stands for?  Or...is it just garden-variety jealousy?"

     Kip put down his drink and scowled again.  He looked at Andy hard.
"What?  You think I'm wrong?"

     Andy dropped the cracker and liver pate he was holding and held up his
hands in defense.  "Hey!  I'm attorney!  I don't know if you're right or
wrong.  I don't even know the guy.  But, it's my nature to play devil's
advocate from time to time.  I gotta ask the hard questions now and again,
even of my friends and clients.  I sometimes have to ask the tough questions
that folks don't want to hear."  Kip leaned back and thought about it.  He
slowly nodded.  Andy leaned over the table and he took another sip.  "So,
Kip, which is it?  Honest opposition... jealousy...or do I even detect a hint of
grudging admiration in there?"

     Kip's hostile expression softened and he shrugged.  "Probably all the
above, I gotta admit."  Then, he shook his head and his face hardened again.
  "It's just that the asshole spouts his lefty idealism in some sappy appeal
to the `little guy...' all fairness and goodness and what's best for the
average Joe...and, at times, it's like he's actually sincere.  But, then, he
can be such a manipulative mother-fucker, and it doesn't quite square with
that `holier-than-thou' image he projects."

     Andy sipped his scotch and put the glass back on the table.  "What?
Someone can't be a manipulator in favor of  `Joe Six-Pack?'  You think
hard-ball, nut-busting politics was saved for the suits, the oil companies,
the corporate board rooms and the limousines?  How the hell do you think the
Kennedy's got where they are?  Look at your history, Kip...all the way back to
both Roosevelts, both Teddy and FDR.  Both were masters of the game in favor
of the little guy.  Sure, they reaped the benefits, but does that make them
any less sincere?  For me, I believe they meant it, too!  Same with
Wisconsin's own Bob LaFollette.  Christ, even Gandhi played hardball with
and against the establishment, as did Dr. King."

     Andy let it sink in a minute, then continued.  "In politics, that's
called skill, savvy, political acumen.  Turner might mean it, all the
`little guy' idealism and shit.  He might also be successfully masking a
truly ruthless and, as you say, self-serving Scott Turner.  So...he knows the
rules, he knows how to play them, but he might also have a real vision of
how he thinks things ought to be."  Andy sat back and scratched his dick
through the damp towel around his waist.  "But, don't make the mistake of
damning a guy for trying to deliver what `the masses' want.  Isn't that a
democratic system, at it's core?"  Kip looked up with question marks all
over his face.  Andy chuckled and shook his head.  "I mean, I'm always
amused by the amount of condemnation we heap at politicians because, `Oh!
He's just trying to get the votes.'  Go figure!  Someone appealing to the
general pubic, offering them what they want."  Andy smiled and he pled for
an answer with hands lifted at shoulder-level.  "What?  In a democracy?
Someone might be rewarded for promising to give the people what they want?
What a fucking shock!  !  How awful is that?!  In a democracy?  The people
should be paid attention to?  Shameful!!"

     Kip was flustered by the practical political science lesson in this
setting.  He was still flushed from a great round of sex, then some good
scotch and okay hotel appetizers, and now this sexy, older and very smart
man was trying to reason with him.  He thought he'd been on a roll
explaining to this hot, intelligent and obviously interested guy what was on
his mind, and the man threw him for a loop and challenged him by taking it
all seriously, and then trying to broaden his mind.  He went back into auto
pilot, mostly because he wasn't sure how to counter Andy, point-for –point.
"And then!"  He paused.  "And then!  To add insult...to injury...to insult...is
the real bane of my fucking existence in all this shit!"  Kip gulped back
what was left of his drink and sneered into the empty glass.  "That little
fucker!"

     Andy took the glass and stood up to step to the ice bucket.  He
tightened the towel around his waist.  "Whoever it is, he's got your goat,
Kip, even more than Turner."  He poured some more scotch and dropped a half
dozen cubes into the amber liquid, then added a splash of soda.  "Fill me
in."  He handed Kip the drink. "Take a breath, man, and then dump your
bucket.  Who's the `little fucker?'"

     Kip took a swallow and winced at its strength.  When he'd caught his
breath, he scowled,  "Marty...Fucking...  Anderson."  He took another swallow,
and Andy matched it this time, his eyes fixed upon Kip's intense gaze into
who knew where?  "He's a cocky, conniving, disrespectful, deceitful
sonofabitch!  And...everybody absolutely fucking loves him!"  Kip took a deep
breath.  "And he seems to make a hobby out of tracking me down and fucking
with my life at every goddamned turn."  Kip rubbed his eyes.

     Andy was genuinely curious.  "So, what's he to you?"

     Kip thought back to the previous spring, then looked directly at
Pennington, and smirked.  "Aw...last spring, I bested his ass in a marketing
class.  Long story short...he fucked up, he tried to blame me, it blew up in
his face, and he's still pissed."  Kip snickered.  "Probably will take it to
his grave, the asshole."

      "Okay, but, more than that, what's he to Turner?  And, if he is such a
dick, as you say, why does everybody love him?"

     Kip sneered again.  "The love?"  He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
  "What's not to love?  He's great looking and in teriffic shape, he's
charming, he's devil-may-care.  He's funnier than hell.  He's `fuck the
system!'  He's `live for today!'  `love your friends with undying loyalty!'
`fuck the system and fuck the fuckers who support it!'"

     Andy was even more intrigued.  This seemed to have little to do with
Kip's situation, and nothing to do with Scott.  He leaned forward and
dropped his elbows onto the table.  "And...?  Where the hell does this play
into Mr. Scott Turner Jr.?"

     Kip started slow, shaking his head.   "Still haven't figured out the
origins, Andy.  Damned if I know.  Doesn't matter, the two are joined at the
fucking hips.  Wherever Turner is, has been, or will be...Marty's fingerprints
will be there."

     Kip was thinking hard now, trying to find a better way to explain it.
"It's like..."  Kip took another sip and struggled to explain it, without
explaining it everything.  "It's like..."  He smiled a little.  "It's like
Turner is Pinnochio, and Anderson is Jimminy Crickett."

     Andy looked at the ceiling and considered it.  "But...Pinnochio was all
innocent and shit, but he had a serious problem with the truth."  He looked
directly into Kip's eyes.  "You've basically said that Turner isn't pure or
that feeble.  And, is Anderson as straight-laced as the crickett?  Jimminy
was all top hat and tails propriety, with the bow tie and all that.  And the
little bug, with his suit and his umbrella...he was the dummy's conscience.
Is that Marty?

     Andy was joking, but Kip took it seriously.  "Okay...okay..."   Kip mulled
it over, and tried again.  "If Turner was Charlie Brown...then Marty would be
Snoopy."

     Andy snickered at his effort.  "Right.  Snoopy is adorable, and he can
be conniving, cool as hell, and he gets away with most things.  And Charlie
Brown might be the most sincere hero out there, but he's also one of the
most innocent, and he's one of the most quiet and dullest personalities.
That's Turner?"

     "Okay...Right!  Still not there!  Gimme a minute, but make me another
drink."   Kip straightened his arm in front of him, a glass clinking ice at
the end of it, and he pinched his lip and scrunched his brows.   Andy got up
and made two more.

     Kip grinned as he swallowed another pull off the scotch.  "YES!  I GOT
it!  The sleazy asshole is Aladdin!!  Disney's `Aladdin'!!  Scott Turner is
that fucker Aladdin, and Marty Anderson is that GodDamned, wise-assed,
guardian angel, best friend, loyal protector, fucking Robin Williams's
Genie!"  He clapped his hands together and leaned back in his chair.  He
didn't even notice his towel parting to give view of the pink head of his
jiggling cock.  He laughed again.  "That's it!  That's fucking it!  Turner's
Aladdin and Anderson's that obnoxious fucking Genie.  He can make shit
happen without hardly lifting a finger, and does it with or without Aladdin
even asking for it, but just `cuz it's the best for him."  Kip's face grew
darker, but not by too much.  "It frees Aladdin up to pursue whatever he
wants to...like chasing the hottest babe in the land, or sucking up to the
rich and powerful while he feathers his own fucking nest.  And, he's
thinking he's making the shit happen on his own."

     "And you want to...?"  Andy asked.

     Kip mulled it over.  A sneer slowly crept across his face.  "I'd like
to pull that magic flying carpet out from under him, then stuff that fucking
genie back into his lamp, for good."



     Danny was still on the floor, flat on his back, moaning through a
mouthful of Jesse's extra-wide member.  His right hand roamed over Jesse's
pecs, roughly kneading them and occasionally tweaking either the right or
the left nipple, causing a gasp or a moan to come from above.  He could feel
the huge testicles land on his square chin with every thrust of the young
stud who was ambitiously fucking his face.  More than that, though, he loved
the feel of the tight chute sliding up and down on his own generous pillar.

     Marty moaned with each piston up and down on the beautiful, uncut cock
he'd gotten to know pretty well a little more than a year earlier.  He was
facing Danny's feet, and was barely conscious of Danny's left hand stroking
his slender, tight sweaty back with each determined drive up and down, up
and down.  His eyes were closed and he hummed a rhythm that matched the rise
and fall of his tight ass.  His knees were earning a well-deserved carpet
burn as he drummed all of his weight up and down on Danny's steel-hard pole.
  One of his hands was flat on the floor, helping him keep balance, but his
knees and thighs were doing all the heavy work; the delightful, electric,
hole-filling sweaty work.

     Marty's other hand was both gripping and stroking the short hair just
above the back of Scott's neck, as his buddy's lips and tongue tried to
devour his oozing and bobbing cock.  Scott fondled Marty's bouncing balls.
He took lusty pleasure in the hard, familiar taste of the slim young stud
filling his mouth, and some satisfaction that he was skillfully
deep-throating him with every thrust into the depths of his throat.

     Adding to Scott's delight and satisfaction was Frank's slippery and
slithery tongue.  The two greedy hands that kneaded his cheeks was nice, but
it was that probing tongue exploring his hole that made him moan into
Marty's sliding dick.  Frank reached between Scott's legs and stroked his
dripping cock.  He lowered his view and sucked Scott's balls into his mouth,
pointing the aching member toward the floor and stroking it in firm,
twisting motions.  His face went back up and he jabbed his tongue deep into
Scott's wet hole, and grinned a little when he felt Scott's ring grip the
invader.

     "Whoa!"  Scott's mouth released Marty's meat and he sat up on his knees
forcing Frank to release his tool.  "Frankie!  Almost had me firing with
that one."  Scott gasped.  "Fucking-A, man, that thing's a weapon in it's
own right."

     Frank grinned and he propped up onto his own knees, grabbing Scott's
shoulders and urging him to turn around.  "Then let me put it someplace
else."  Before Scott could respond, Frank pulled him forward and slithered
it deep into Scott's parted lips.  Scott immediately responded by hungrily
sucking on Frank's roaming tongue, and reached down and around, grabbing
Frank's ass cheeks with a firm slap.  He ground their competing tools
together, and the cock duel only emphasized the disparity in their size.
Scott had always felt his was just a bit above average, but shit!  Frank's
looked and felt like even more of an imposing monster in this position.  The
two men engaged in a fierce, passionate tongue and lip battle, as their
hands roamed, rubbed, grabbed and groped all various parts of each other's
bodies.  Scott pulled back for air, and buried his face in the crook of
Frank's neck.  He licked and nibbled his way toward Frank's right ear, and
the shoved his tongue into it as he reached down and grasped Frank's cock,
slippery with precum.  Frank gasped and pulled back a little.  "I need this
inside me!" he moaned into Scott's ear as he squeezed his cock.  "I want you
to fuck me, Scott.  It's been a long time since you've fucked me, and I need
it!"

     Frank stepped back to the overnight bag he'd already casually removed
from the bedroom and grabbed out a small handful of condoms.  He tossed all
but one on the floor, grabbed Scott's cock again and led him over toward the
arm of the couch.  He went to his knees and quickly rolled the rubber sheath
down the shaft, then lowered his head again to give Scott's sack one more
quick, sucking bath.  With Marty's moans and pants as a backdrop, Frank
propped both forearms on the arm of the couch and turned his head.  "Now!
Scotty!  Do me now, man!"  Scott had already lubed his cock, and had a
greasy hand on the small of Frank's back.  He used the other to guide the
head to Frank's entrance, and pushed.  Once through the tight sphincter
muscle, Frank moaned over Marty's gleeful panting and he sneered over his
shoulder, "C'mon Scotty!  Don't slow down, man!  Do me!"  Scott thrust
forward as far as he could, and Frank's head shot backward.
"Uuurrrrrrrggggghhh... yeaaaaaaah!"  Scott held it inside Frank's tight hole
with one hand firmly on each shoulder and shook his hips up and down about
an inch.

     Jesse was now sitting on Danny's face, enjoying a rambunctious tongue
probe and playing with Danny's nipples as he watched the cock below him
appear and disappear with the rising and falling of Marty's ass.  Frank's
groan caught his attention, and he looked left.  The two made eye contact.
Frank's mouth was open, and he motioned with his head for his roommate to
please come to the couch, because he wanted to be filled at both ends.
Jesse swatted Marty's ass on the upstroke and stood up.  He strode over
behind the couch and lifted one leg over to straddle the back, near the arm
on which Frank's arms rested, they scooted down to give Frank easy access to
his crotch.  Scott had started a slow rhythm, easing his pole out and then
all the way back into Frank's depth.  Frank leaned forward and took the a
couple inches of his roommate into his mouth, rolling the tongue around the
glans.  Jesse put his hand on the back of his head and slowly matched
Scott's strokes by bucking his own hips into the Italian stud's face.

     Marty eased himself up and off of Danny's rod and started to stand.
Danny opened his eyes.  "What the...?"

     Marty giggled, and reached down and lightly swatted his buddy's knee.
"Relax, big boy!  We're not done by a long shot."  He leered down at the
frustrated player.  "Remember our last time in Madison?  Let's show off a
little!"  A broad, naughty smile flashed across the blond's face and he
hurried up off the floor as Marty sat on the arm of the loveseat and laid
back on the cushions.  Danny remembered their last time very well, and he
stepped between Marty's spread legs and found his hole with the head of his
cock.  He slid in with relative ease, but the change in position made Marty
moan as he wrapped his legs tightly around Danny's hips and locked his feet
at the ankles.  Marty's arms extended upward and Danny leaned far down into
the embrace.  Marty moaned again into Danny's opened mouth as their grinning
mouths merged.  He wrapped his arms around Danny's strong neck and felt his
buddy's strong hands rub up his back, his neck and grab a handful of hair.
Danny pulled his head back and buried his face into Marty's neck.  Danny's
lips, tongue and teeth danced across Marty's taut neck muscles, licking and
sucking up the sweat and bringing another giggle from his smaller friend.
Danny's hands lowered and wrapped tightly around Marty's rib cage.

     "You ready?"  Danny breathed into Marty's ear, his hips doing a short
left-to-right dance between Marty's thighs.

     "Oooohhh!  Do it!"  Marty's eyes rolled back for a second, then he
regained his focus, locking onto Danny's.  "C'mon man!"

     Scott swatted Frank's ass with his right hand. "Mmmmmhhhh!" Frank
muttered through a mouthful of Jesse's pulsing cock.  Scott's left hand came
down on the other side.  "Like, that, don't you Frankie?  Like getting'
filled in both ends!"  He grabbed both cheeks firmly as he continued to
build a faster and harder rhythm in and out of Frank's welcoming hole.
Frank nodded, heightening the friction on Jesse's tool.

     Jesse spoke for him.  "Fuck yeah, Scotty!  Frankie's in fucking heaven,
man!  Drill him dude!"

     Scott reached both hands up and wiped both hands up across his forehead
and ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.  He locked his fingers
behind his head and continued to pound his hips forward and back.  He looked
to his right and laughed.  "Holy...fuckin'...shit!"

     Danny had stood up, his feet planted at about shoulder-width and his
arms locked around Marty's mid-section.  Marty was impaled, his legs locked
around Danny's waist, his head thrown back, and he just swooned as Danny
thrust and bounced his armful of manhood up and down on his steely column.
"Oooh, oooh, wwooooohhh, oooh, ooooh...yeah bud!  Drive that fucker!  Do me!
Make me ride that fucker!"

     Danny's teeth were gritted and his eyes were wide, locked into Marty's.
  "Ride it, you fucker!  Ride my hard cock!  Yeah!  Take that like the
fucking stud that you are!  Like that, Marty boy?  Miss that cock?  Fuckin'
A, I miss this hot tight ass!"  Marty could only moan and babble
unintelligible shit.

     Their hot banter only inspired Scott to drill Frank harder.  He brought
both hands down onto he tight hips with a smack and pounded his hips
forward.  Frank responded with a whimper, and his hands came up and wrapped
around Jesse's waist, pulling his cock forward.  Frank gagged on the thick
cock touching the back of his mouth.  He had to come up for air and grunted.
  "Ooooohhh, Fuck, man!  I'm gonna fuckin' cum, dude!  Hammer that dick in
there and make me cum, Scotty!"  Frank raised his head and grabbed the arm
of the couch with his left hand and his swinging cock with his right.  He
clamped down on Scott's invading piece with his muscles as he stroked
himself with a clear mission in mind.  The explosion seemed to start
somewhere around his feet as his legs began to shake and his head fell back
onto Scott's shoulder.

     Jesse gripped his own slimy and dripping member in his hand and
stroked.  "Uuuugggghhh!" he wailed, as a shot of white lava hit Frank's
stomach.  His ass rubbed across the top of the couch as his hips bucked
uncontrollably and the orgasmic bliss continued.

     Frank responded in kind, blasting a first load that landed on Jesse's
thigh.  Instinctively, Jesse leaned forward as far as he could and opened
his mouth, trying to catch the rest of Frank's treasure.  He got his lips
around the head of Frank's meat and took another four blasts as Frank
continued to stroke, knocking his roommate on the chin without complaint.
Scott grabbed both of Frank's shoulders and pulled him down and back.
"Yyyyyyeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaahhhhh!  Frankie!  Hot fucking ass, boy!"  He slowly
stroked another half-dozen times in and out of Frank's hole and nearly lost
his balance from the body-quaking jolt that ripped through his being.

     Jesse fell back on the couch and gasped for air.  Frank fell forward
onto the cushion between his roommate's legs, causing Scott to slide out,
and freeing his still shooting weapon.  Scott stroked the remainder of his
orgasm into the condom, jutting his hips another three or four more times
and grunting with each jolt.

     Frank looked up and to his right and grinned.  "Ride `em cowboy!"

     "Yyyyeeeeeeeeeee Haaaaaaaaaaaah! Marty managed through gritted teeth as
Danny continued his pounding up and into Marty's bouncing cheeks.  Suddenly
Marty's torso began to quake, his feet unhooked and his legs shot straight
out.  Losing that leverage nearly caused Danny to drop him, so he took two
steps and lowered Marty's ass to the arm of the loveseat, but never missed a
stroke in the deft maneuver.  Marty's head flew back and forth as Danny
stroked his dick a few times and the firing began.  "Gaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwd!"
Marty shot a volley, most of which flew past his head, but a good length of
the white rope striped his face.  He continued to buck his hips and painted
his chest and stomach with his jizz.  Danny withdrew and slipped off the
condom, but had already begun his release.  His juices mingled with Marty's
as he muttered unintelligible growls and grunts, finally collapsing to the
floor below the loveseat's arm.  "Fuckin'..."  He gasped for air.  "I
mean...fuckin'...goddammit Marty!"  Marty was still in a panting daze of his
own, unable to respond with more than a grin and a giggle.



     Kip was still mulling over that previous night's conversation, and a
good deal of the sex, when Pennington's cell phone rang, and brought him
back to the here and now.  Andy glanced at the small screen, then over to
his bedmate.  "I was wondering what was taking her so long."  He pushed the
small button in the center.  "Hi honey, how are you?!  I was just about to
call."  He paused to listen.  "Yeah, been a long weekend, and I am pretty
tired, but I just finished a good workout, and am still a bit winded."  He
winked at Kip, who buried his head in the pillow to muffle his laughter.
"No...my weekend got extended by a meeting today with the gov'...Yeah!  Lunch
at the mansion, and all that jazz.   Eleanor's not coming back to the Board,
but she knows it.  It's political reality, nothing personal...And, she's
assured me she'd be supportive in the transition.  Well, it's mine if I want
it, but I told him I wanted to mull it over and talk to you first.  No real
hurry, it's not even Thanksgiving yet, and he won't announce anything `til
January, after the new legislature is sworn in."  He paused again to listen,
and spit out a quick laugh.  "Of course!  You don't think I'd agree to more
meetings in Madison every year as the Board's chair," he nudged Kip,
"without clearing it with you first, do you?"  Andy chatted idly with his
wife about her weekend and the kids for another minute or two as Kip mulled
over the possibility of getting together more often throughout the rest of
his senior year.  His wheels were turning.  "Okay, hon.  I'm leaving early
in the morning, very early.  Don't worry, I'll be back in time for church.
Yeah, tell Father I'll be there."   Kip's head snapped at the remark which,
to his well-heeled, church-going mind, seemed awfully incongruous at the
moment.  "Gotta run, hon.  Long weekend, I'm beat and I want to be on the
road very early.  See you in time for coffee before we have herd the kids
for services.  Love you."  He set down the phone.

     Kip's face asked Andy, `Church?!"

     Pennington read the look correctly, and he grinned sheepishly and
nodded as he put the phone down.  "Yeah.  Among other things, I'm an Elder
in our Episcopal congregation."  He turned on his side and leaned the side
of his hand to better look at Kip.  "I was thinking about you and the WSA,
and how Turner kind of robbed you of what should have been yours."

     Kip nodded.  "One sly fucker, he is.  He stole it fair and square."

     Andy raised a finger in partial correction.  "And you went along to
salvage something for yourself, so don't get too indignant, Kip.  But what
are you doing as vice president?  Anything?"

     "Mostly hoping that Turner might get hit by a bus.  And, waiting to see
what the asshole has up his sleeve next, and looking for a chance to knock
him on his ass."

     "You mean, to pull the magic carpet out from under him?"  Andy chuckled
at the memory of last night's conversation, just before they'd retired to
the mattress to swap man juice one more time in a hot and furious sixty-nine
session.

     Kip smiled.  "Yeah.  Take away his ability to fly.  That's it.  Got
something in mind, Mr. Pennington?"

     Andy laid back and looked at the ceiling.  "Well, it wouldn't cripple
him or anything, but it could position you to take advantage of any future
situation to put him in his place, politically anyway."  He let the silence
hang for a few seconds, then turned back to his side and looked straight
into Kip's eyes.  "Here's the deal.  The governor is ready to name me as
Chairman of the Board of Regents.  At about the same time, he'll appoint a
new student member.  That youngster always comes from within the WSA.
Suppose he were to tap you, partially out of recognition of your elevated
position within student government, but also because you have an endorsement
from the new chairman?"

     Kip's head slowly started to indicate, `no.'

     Andy persisted, nodding `yes!'  "Kip, the appointment would be a slam
dunk!  Then, you'd have a forum at least from which to weild some influence
outside of Turner's grasp or control.  You could reclaim some of the
attention and spotlight among the student body as their official, and only,
representative on the UW's real governing body.  You could make your own
mark, maybe swipe back at Turner from time to time, not to mention make some
important connections and buff up your resume."  Kip continued to shake his
head, but wasn't able to interrupt.  "Plus!"  Andy gestured with a finger
once again.  "Plus!  You said you didn't think you wanted to leave campus
yet and go back home to work for Dad.  This is a three-year appointment.
The student regent has to be a student.  It'd give you the perfect
justification to tell your father that you need to remain here and go to
grad school."  Kips `no' head shake picked up speed and determination.  "And
finally," Pennington's eyebrows related half of his message, "we'd
absolutely have to meet together at least once a month here in Madison."  He
reached over and tweaked Kip's left nipple.

     Kip giggled and flinched, swatting Andy's hand away.  He flopped back
on the bed and stared at the ceiling.  "But, Andy, there's a big piece of
information you don't know that's going to make your plan absolutely
in-fucking-possible."

     Andy gave a blank `Huh?' look.

     Kip sighed and continued to stare straight up, expressionless.  "It's
already his."

     "What?!  How do you..."

     Kip waved him off.  "The governor's apparently already offered it to
him, so it's his if he wants it."

     Andy sat up and crossed his legs, scooting around on the mattress to
face Kip.  "How'd that happen?  How do you know this?"

     Kip turned on his side and cradled the side of his head in his flat
hand.  He stared directly at Andy's flaccid dick and two low-hanging balls
between his crossed legs for a second before looking up.  "Here's the deal.
One of Turner's most important friends is Maureen McCarthy."

     "Really?  THE Maureen McCarthy?  How's that?"

     Kip sighed again.  "The one and only.  Their families have been friends
for a long time.  Her niece is an old friend of mine, sort of, and she tells
me McCarthy and Scott's old man were high school sweethearts, and that
they've remained friends all these years.  Apparently, the good senator
thinks that Junior walks on water, and has been blowing his horn in the
governor's ear already.  To top it off, Turner's been banging Kelly for a
couple months now."

     Andy's face screwed up into a question.  "The niece?"

     Kip pursed his lips.  "You got it.  Turner had McCarthy on his side
already, and then he started making her beloved niece moan and groan.
Apparently, that's just been icing on an already hefty cake."  Kip paused
and visions of Homecoming, then of the night with Marty in the computer lab
fast-forwarded through his head.  He snapped back to the hotel's bed and
shrugged his shoulders.  "So, Turner tells me that the governor already
approached him and told him, in no uncertain terms, the seat on the board is
his if he wants it.  All that's needed is to have the WSA recommend his name
to the governor, and it's over."

     Andy was seeing it clearly now.  "And...with Maureen riding the helm in
the senate, his confirmation is also a foregone conclusion."

     Pennington unfolded his legs and lay back, propping his weight on his
elbows.  He let out a low whistle.  "Wow!  He IS good!  And apparently
blessed by the powers-that-be, too."  He narrowed his eyes and Kip could
practically hear the wheels turning.

     Kip snickered wryly and rolled his eyes a little.  "Welcome to my
world, Andrew."

     "Hang on.  Hang on.  You've said two things.  First, you said a couple
of times `IF he wants it.'"  Kip nodded.  "And we both know that the
governor wants his appointment to come from a WSA recommendation, right?"

     "Yeah."  Kip wasn't quite following.

     "So, the questions are:  first, how do you make Turner not want it?
Or, two, how do you deny him the recommendation of the WSA?"

     Kip shook his head and shrugged.  "Beats the shit out of me!"

     Andy looked to his side and grinned.  "Ah, well, not to worry.  It's
early, and we have time to figure that out."

     Kip's head shot back toward Andy again.  "We?"

     Andy shifted his weight to his left and rolled toward his hot, young
friend.  "Yeah, we.  We got time."  Andy's expression slowly turned to a
leer as he continued to close the small distance between the two.  "But
first..."

     Kip gasped when his left nipple was sucked in between Pennington's
lips.  Andy sucked and nibbled as he reached down and cupped Kip's balls in
his right hand.  Kip laid back and let out a slow, low, sighing moan as he
reached up and stroked the back of Pennington's head.



     The most audible sound in the room was a gurgling, gagging
"eeerrrrrrrrraaaaaauuuuuuucck," followed by a sloppy slurping noise.  Danny
gasped, then heaved three or four breaths in and out.  "Holy Fuck!"  He
looked up at Frank, wide-eyed but smiling, his lips and chin shiny with
spit.  Frank sat flat on the floor, leaning against the couch, legs spread,
grinning down at Danny.

     The guys had paused to take a breather.  Another round of drinks, a
joint and a round of Marty's finest, combined with plenty of good natured
trash talking and joking around had given them all a chance to refresh and
recharge.  Finally, Danny took the bull by the horns, so to speak.  He
boldly grasped a handful of Frank's pride and joy, then proclaimed, "You
guys ain't leaving the Cities until I've made full use of this big, bad
boy!"  He leaned to his left and his head descended, sucking Frank into his
mouth as he maneuvered in between his spreading legs.

     By now, the monster was fully alert and demanding full attention, and
Danny going to deliver it.  He was doing his damnedest to bury it all
between his lips and down into his gullet.  Another lunge downward and he
coughed, his cheeks pulsing outward as the blast of breath tried to escape
around the hot hard flesh blocking its path.  For a moment, a thin thread of
saliva connected Danny's bottom lip to the shiny head of Frank's missile, as
he took another breath.  "Fuck, man!  I can't believe anybody can swallow
this beautiful thing all the way!"

     Frank patted the blond head below him as he licked his grinning lips.
"Aw, Danny my man!  You get an A for effort, that's for sure.  Jesse's the
only one I know who can really take it all.  I've never cared how he does
it, so you'd have to ask him."  He gestured behind Danny with an upward tilt
of his head.  "But he's pretty busy right now."

     Scott and Marty were on their knees, but upright, engaged in a
rambunctious tongue dance, their hands roaming all over each other as if it
was the first time they'd explored this territory.  Jesse had clasped both
of their freshly erect members together in his fist and had managed to
maneuver his head between the guys' panting tummies.  Opening as wide as he
could, he was feasting on a double helping of man meat, his head rising and
falling slowly.  As he couldn't manage to wrap his lips tightly around both
cocks, Jesse's drool dripped down onto and off of the mens' sacks.

     Marty released the nipple he'd been teasing and gently twisting, and
slid his hand to the top of Scott's head.  He broke the kiss and ran his
tongue along Scott's left cheek and, eyes closed, found the left year.  His
sharp tongue darted in and out before he sucked the lobe and held it lightly
between his front teeth.  Scott sighed a soft yelp, and Marty released the
ear, but grabbed the hair on the top of his buddy's head and tugged it back,
exposing the sweat-shimmering neck and the quickening pulse beating beneath
the surface.  His lips and tongue ravished the taut muscles as Scott's
fingers stroked their way through the hair just above the back of Marty's
neck.

     Jesse now had two fistfuls of hard drooling cock, and his opened mouth
bobbed up and down between them both.  He paused to catch his own breath,
but continued to slowly piston stroke them both as he listened to Scott's
`uuuuhhhhhhm's and `oooooooohhhh yeah.'  A devilish grin emerged on his
smooth and shiny face.  `Wanted to try that for a long time,' he thought to
himself.  `No time like the present.'  His head rose to join the other two,
and he patted Scott's ass.  "Lay down on your back, bud."

     Frank was on his knees now too.  He stroked Danny's blond hair and
admired the look of sheer determination on the young jock's face as he
rolled the rest of the latex sheath over the huge rod in his fist.  "Gotta
have this fucker, Frank!  I might not be able to swallow the whole goddam
thing, but I'm damn sure gonna take it all anyway."  He found the bottle of
lube and thoroughly slicked it up and down.  Danny handed the bottle to
Frank and rolled over on his back.  He grabbed his legs beneath the knees
and pulled them up toward his chest.  "Lube me up good Frankie."  Then he
revealed a wry smile.  "Scotty loosened me up pretty good today, but you're
gonna have to go slow."

     Frank chuckled a bit.  "Yeah, we figured that much out."  Danny smiled
sheepishly and rolled his eyes.  "But don't worry.  I'll take it easy..."
Then he looked down and winked as two fingers applied a generous dose of
slippery liquid to his quivering hole.  "...at first."  Frank got on his knees
between Danny's upwardly bent legs and rubbed the backs of his thighs.  He
looked down at the waiting entrance.  "You got a great ass, man.  We're
gonna enjoy this...both of us."

     He heard his roommate's voice and looked to his left.
"Wwwwwwwwwwooooooooaaaaaaah!"  Jesse had just slowly impaled himself on
Scott's upright cock.  Reaching bottom, he paused as Scott rubbed his thighs
and Jesse reached over his shoulders rubbing and kneading his muscular
chest.  Scott's eyes were closed, and he was smiling sublimely.  The
sensation of Jesse's tight muscular hole was the only thing he was really
conscious of.  Then, he was aware that his right hand had found the stiff,
wide muscle that had glanced his abs and he coated Jesse's member with his
precum with slow, rhythmic strokes.  Jesse rose up and sighed a low moan,
nearly losing hold of Scott's pole before sliding back down to take him all
the way into his depths.  He rocked his hips forward and back a few times
and flexed his muscles, causing Scott's eyes to open and eliciting a "heh
heh, yeah!"

     Frank's aim was sure and true, but Danny was such a willing target.  He
watched as just his piss slit disappeared within the wrinkled ring at the
center of Danny's spread cheeks.  He applied a modest amount of pressure,
and most of the head was surrounded.  Danny gasped.  Another bold but short
push and his head popped through the tight ring.  "Aaaaah!"  Danny's eyes
were clenched shut and he was already breathing hard.  "Remember...go slow,
man!"

     Frank rubbed his chest, then his thighs.  Jesse gasped a few times as
he rose up one more time, but managed to offer "You're in good hands man.
Don't worry.  You're gonna love that thing!"  He came back down and Scott
quivered a bit.  Jesse looked over his shoulder and gave Marty a determined
gaze.  "And I'm gonna love this!  Ready to join your best bud, Marty?"

     Marty smacked his ass sharply.  "Damned right, Jesse.  You da' man,
man!"  He peered around the muscled shoulder.  "Ready for some company,
Scotty?  I'm coming in!"  Scott just laughed, scarcely able to breathe let
alone believe that Jesse was going to actually take them both at the same
time.  But he was glad it was Marty who was going to join him.  Marty put a
hand between Jesse's shoulder blades and pushed his torso forward and down.
He could hear the slurping and smacking of the two swapping tongues and spit
as he straddled Scott's shins and aimed his blazing tool at the base of
Scott's buried cock and the stretched opening between the two broad cheeks.

     Danny's eyes and mouth popped open at the same time when Frank forged
ahead on his mission.  "Oooooooohhh!  Oooooohhh!  Aaaawwww!"  Both hands
shot downward and found Frank's thighs urging him to pause.  Frank rubbed
Danny's thighs, and slid his hands back over the shins, propping one leg on
each of his shoulders.

     "Sweet fucking ass, Danny boy!  How we doin'?"  He reached down and
took Danny's dripping rod in his hand and slowly stroked it.  With clenched
eyes and gritted teeth, Danny just nodded.  Frank moved forward another
couple of inches, and Danny's winced expression grew even more strained, but
he didn't object.  Instead, his hands reached further down and he grasped
Frank's hips.  Holding him in place for another several seconds, he took
another deep breath before pulling him in further.  "Oooooohhhhh Mmmyyyyy
Gaaaaaaawwwwwddd!"  Frank felt his nuts resting between the stretched cheeks
of the smooth ass that had finally welcomed him all the way in.  He leaned
down and nibbled Danny's neck and chin with light and playful nips.  The two
locked lips and their breaths and gasps battled each other while Danny
adjusted to the massive invader.

     Scott watched the intense, dazed stare on Jesse's face as he felt
Marty's urethra slowly gliding along side his own as he inched himself up
and inside of Jesse.  The hungry stud on top of him couldn't speak, only
roll his eyes and suck in air.  After the better part of a minute, he felt
Marty's balls come to rest on top of his own and Jesse's head shook.  The
tight friction engulfing his aching dick was incredible, and he marveled at
Jesse's delighted determination.  Jesse finally smiled.
"Yyyeeeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhh!  Oh, Fuck!!"

     Marty giggled over Jesse's shoulder.  "Fuckin A, Jesse!  Fucking,
fucking A!" was all he could say.  His hands grabbed at Jesse's glistening
ass cheeks.  "You're in charge, here man!  Let me know what you want."
Jesse's eyes closed again and he just smiled, then his hips began a slow
forward and back movement, working himself up and down on both of the cocks
inside of him in slow small strokes.

     "Mmmmmmmhhhhhhh  hhhhhhhmmmmmm!"  Frank had begun doing the same, but
from the other end of the operation.  He started with slow short movements
of his hips, his ass cheeks flexing subtly with each small motion.  Danny
nodded his approval and a glazed-over smile enveloped his face.   The
strokes got longer and Danny began to whimper a quiet moan with the arrival
of each forward thrust.   "Mmhh!  Mmhh!  Mmhh!"  Frank leaned down and
forward again, his lips touching Danny's ear.  "Like that cock, Danny?
You're taking that boy like you love it!  You're such a fucking stud, man,
with this sweet fucking ass taking my big pole!  Sweet, hungry fucking hole,
man!"

     "Yeah!  Yeah!  Yeah Frankie!  Come on, dude!  I love this big fucking
cock!   Ooohhh, man, yeah!  Yeah!"  Frank rose back up and put his hands
under Danny's knees.  He increased both the length and the pace of his
strokes.  Danny's hands came off of his hips and he fumbled in his daze to
find his own nipples.  His head was rolling back and forth on the carpeting
as he pinched and twisted the hard brown flesh between his fingers.  "Oh
God!  God!  God!  Ooooohhhh fucking shit, Frank.  Fuck me, dude!"

     Jesse and Marty were working together now.  Scott could only lay still
on his back and enjoy the tight hot ride his friends were lavishing on his
throbbing, slippery meat.  Jesse's ass moved up and back as Marty plunged in
and out in a synchronized pulse.  "Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!  Fuck!  Aw! Aw! Aw! Aw!
Mmmhh!  Mmmhh!" Jesse moaned.  He closed his eyelids tightly squeezing a
couple of small tears out and onto each cheek.  He bit his lip as a cascade
of light and color blasted into the darkness of his mind's eyes.  He heard
Marty cough out something like a laugh and could hear the amazement and
sheer delight in his friends expression.

     "Godddam, Jesse!  What a fucking stud!  Hoooooollly Shiiiiit!  Ride
these dicks, boy!"  Jesse's hand came up and wiped the sweat from his eyes,
brow and forehead.  Scott began to flex his muscles enough to initiate some
additional movement beneath the other two, earning some happy praise from
his buddy.  "Atta boy, Scotty!  Work that fucking hole with me.  Amazing,
man!  A-fucking-mazing!"

     Frank was long-dicking the blond jock, whose face was a perfect
combination of strength, determination and delight.  Danny was pounding his
own meat now, almost as hard as Frank was ravishing his hole.  If the others
had been able to listen to anything else in the room, they'd have been
stunned by the forceful sound of Frank's pelvis making sharp contact with
Danny's ass.  Danny was whining through his delirious grin.  "Gimme!  Gimme!
  Gimme!  God!  Oh God!  Yeah!  Fuck!  Ohmygod!  Yeah!"  His eyes were
locked on Frank's but he had no focused vision.  Every utterance was
involuntary.  He was jerked back to reality by the powerful sensation from
deep within his loins.  "Oh God!  Frankie!  You're gonna make me shoot, you
fucker!  C'mon!"  He sneered up at the sweaty Italian, who continued to
piston long hard strokes.  "C'mon, Frankie, bring me home you motherfucker!
Yeah!  Yeah!  Yeaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"  The force of the blast seemed so intense
that Frank didn't actually see the head erupt.  It was like several huge
globs of cum had just appeared on Danny's chest and ribs out of nowhere.
Only then did he see the red hot tool spitting jism as Danny coughed and
gasped.  Frank flung himself forward and squeezed his hands beneath Danny's
back and he grasped his shoulders.  Danny clamped down on the monster inside
of him as Frank used the leverage to plow just a little bit further than
he'd gone thus far and they both feared the condem might actually explode.
Frank's body quivered violently as his short, stacatto rabbit strokes sent
jolts of joy thoroughout his body.  Their ribs and abs slipped and slid
against each other in the sweat and the semen.  Finally, Frank just moaned.
"Uuuuuuuuuuuuugggggghhh."

     Marty wasn't far behind.  The intense heat and pressure surrounding his
tool had brought him to the very brink.  He clenched his eyes and gritted
his teeth, and even ceased his own pumping to try to slow it down and avoid
the inevitable.  Jesse and Scott were less cooperative, with Jesse
continuing to ride back and forth, and Scott doing all he could to match the
strokes from beneath.  Finally, Marty just went with it.  "Awww, Fuck!
Yeah!"  He slowly withdrew, suprising and disappointing Jesse at first.  But
then, Marty's cries and the hot shots of cum on his back and ass made it all
okay.  It also spurred him on.  Jesse straightened up and his hole dished
out longer strokes on Scott's tingling meat.  He grabbed his own tool and
began pounding furiously.  Marty had fallen back on the floor and he stared
at the ceiling, but he could hear the joy in Jesse's voice as he exploded
his load onto Scott's chin, neck and chest.  None of his words or grunts
were understandable, but the message was unmistakable.  After one final
shutter, from his knees to his head, Jesse released his dripping cock and
slowly slumped to his right.

     Scott quickly slid of the condom up and off and grasped his insanely
twitching dick.  He felt a hand grab his wrist and looked down to see Marty
grasp it firmly before wrapping his lips around the bright red head.  Marty
stroked a half dozen times and Scott's toes curled.  His entire body
stiffened.  A stunning blast of pleasure rocked Scott from head to toe, and
he violently delivered the load Marty was seeking, and right where he wanted
it.  The pace of Marty's stroking mirrored the changing intensity of Scott's
wild orgasm, and his friend expertly read every breath, every twitch and
every movement of his body.  Cum finally drizzled back out from between
Marty's lips as he tried to swallow spurt after spurt of Scott's seed.  At
last, one long exhale escaped from deep within Scott's exhausted chest, and
Marty let go with his hand, but kept Scott in his mouth when he laid his
head down gently on Scott's heaving abs.  He gently rubbed Scott's left
thigh and Scott's left hand found the sweat-soaked side of his buddies head.

     After a little while, Marty gave Scott one more gentle suck, and
released him.  Scott continued to stroke his sweaty temple.  Marty turned
and looked up and over the landscape that was Scott's rib cage, his rising
and falling pecs, his protruding nipples and his chin.  He grinned a playful
grin and shifted around before lowering his head again.  With a wide swipe
of his flat, tongue, he wiped up a generous dose of the juice Jesse had
sprayed, mixing it in his mouth with Scott's own.  Even though his eyes were
closed, Scott parted his lips, sensing that Marty was about to share.  They
enjoyed a long, slow and relaxing kiss.

     Over a minute passed, with only Mick Jagger shouting something in the
background about dancing in the street breaking the silence.  Finally, Danny
raised his head off the floor and looked around.  "You fuckers have GOT to
visit Minneapolis more often!"

     Everybody giggled.  Marty lifted his head off of Scott's chest and he
licked his lips.  "When you gonna visit Mad Town again, Huber?  Your turn to
travel.  We know how to party there, too, you know."

     Jesse had been laying face down, forehead propped on his crossed
forearms.  He lifted his head.  "Yeah, Danny!  I'm the only one here who
hasn't had the joy of riding your cute booty."

     Scott tried to feign innocence.  "Wait a minute!  I haven't..."

     Danny waved him off.  "Don't even go there, big guy.  We were busted
when we walked back into the bar today."

     Scott found an opened beer and took a drink.  He wrinkled his nose at
the nearly room temperature ale, then manufactured a look of surprise and
questioning.

     Marty grabbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger.  "Dude.  If
you're gonna steal away for a quick fuck, you gotta wipe the cum off your
shoe before you return to the party."

     Scott's head slumped back to the floor, and his arm draped over his
eyes.






Author's Note:

Well, there you have it, finally.  Small apologies go out to those who have
written and said you enjoy the story line more than the sex.  I probably
overdid it in this chapter, but couldn't resist letting the guys take full
advantage of their situation during their road trip.  I should explain that
I've been putting in twelve-hour days at work for most of the past month,
and have had to devote too much weekend time to the job as well.  Have to
pay the bills.  In addition, as I've already shared with some of you, I'm
one of millions who suffer from depression.  It's not acute, and isn't
disabling or anything.  It's just that sometimes I hit these stretches where
I settle into a persistent funk and I don't want to do a damned thing.  Not
to worry, I'm fine.

I'll repeat my usual, and always sincere, thanks to all of you who have
stuck with Scott and the gang.  You all mean a great deal to me, and to the
future of the story.  I love it when you write and let me know what you
think, whether its positive or critical.  The one exception is the guy who
wrote and said only, essentially, `hurry up, I'm waiting.'  (Sorry I snapped
back, buddy, whoever you are.  I'm afraid yours is the only email I've
deleted from my inbox, so I don't remember your name.)  Anyway, feel free to
give me a shout at scotty.13411@hotmail.com

Special thanks go out to Kory, Glenn and Scotty for their dialogue and
assistance with both the substance and the details of this continuing work.
In particular, a big thanks goes out to my buddy in the Cities, Danny
(wherever you are these days), who swears the episode in the mall's
maintenance room  actually happened.

In 1994, the missing "Slab of Bacon" was discovered in a store room at Camp
Randall in Madison, Wisconsin.  Even though it had `disappeared' during the
infamous UW-UM game some time in the early `40's, the scores of every game
between 1930 and 1970 were painted on the back of the slab when it was
found.  My guess:  some UW employee who retired in 1970, with quick hands
and a key to the store room swindled the damned thing.  Let's face it.
Marty would've done it, right?