Date: Sun, 20 Oct 2013 15:08:29 -0700
From: Bain Taylor <dozedaze@gmail.com>
Subject: Bending Straight Lines.  Chapter 3

Bending Straight Lines
By Bain Taylor
copyright 2013

All content disclaimers in chapter 1 apply to the entire story.

*Thank you for reading!  Happy Halloween.

Chapter 3

When I woke up on Sunday there was a hazy light shining down on me from a
window far above, and there were dust particles floating around all moving
in different directions.  There were billions of them.

And as I sat up trying to piece together where I was, it seemed like I was
in a church or something, because the wood separating the window panes had
cast a shawdow on the floor, and the ghostly dark image formed a quivering
black cross. I figured that God was playing some kind of Sunday holy trick
on me, and I considered going back to sleep and re-awakening, so I could
start all over.

But once I looked around, I realized that I was in the frat barn, and that
explained everything.

All three futons had been re-converted back from beds, and into couches
again.  So I didn't get to see any half-asleep senior hotness stretching
and yawning at the new day. I wondered how long I'd overslept?

Everyone was gone except for James, and he was over in the kitchen doing
something.

Outside I could hear the sound of someone chopping wood. I knew it couldn't
be John or Troy, because teenagers don't chop wood unless it's for
something important - like for survival or money.

I shook out my knotted hair, like a wet dog, and was somehow able to pull
myself together enough to stumble to the bathroom.

On my way there, I saw that James was arranging stuff on the ironing board.
He was wrapped in a bath towel, busily eating left-over pizza with one
hand, and arranging three stacks of pamplets with the other.  On the end of
the ironing board was a starched white shirt, a black tie, and a dark blue
name tag.

"Hey," I said, as I walked towards the bathroom, tugging down on my white
boxers.

"Good afternoon." He replied, not looking up.

I guess that was my first hint at how late it was.

"Grab some munchables." He added, motioning his elbow at the last remaining
pizza box.

Hmm, pizza in the morning.  Cool, I thought.

And in my staggered strut, I thought I heard some doors slamming outside,
like someone was piling into a car - or out of one.  I figured it was a
delivery truck, and some dude was dropping something off.  No one had said
anything about having company over, so I doubted that was it.

"Awesome, any left with that canadian bacon stuff?" I asked as I approached
the door.

But I guess he didn't hear me.

Not that it mattered, my breakfast was the image of his bare chest and
chiseled stomach.  My eyes, that I sometimes shift slyly when I'm trying
not to be obvious, had quickly zeroed in on the blond trail of peach fuzz
that guided them like lazers to the loosely secured bath towel that was
barely clinging to him.  I thought it looked cool on him, and I'll bet you
50 bucks he doesn't even know he has a fuzz trail.

I walked into the bathroom, and closed the door behind me.  I wish I could
have stared at the dude longer, but some things take priority.

Anyway, as I stood in there trying to figure out a way to pee without
hanging upside-down from the ceiling, I wondered why someone hadn't
invented special urinals for guys that get morning wood.  And I know I'm
not the first guy who's thought of this, but they should put urinals up
higher, and give them rounded half-domes on the top so you can take a leak
if you happen to be showing wood. Guys all across the United States of
America would line up to buy one of those, just like when the new Iphones
come out.

While I was in there, I decided to take a shower, since it was right there
calling my name.

The shower itself was nice and roomy.  There was a wall made out of clear
glass 12"X12" bricks that separated the two showers, and the distortion of
the 3" thick glass was scrambled enough so you wouldn't be able to make out
who was on the other side.  And near mid-way, one glass brick had been left
out during construction, which allowed room for a narrow shelf on the
bottom where they put the shampoo and soaps. The shower door was the
standard frosted glass stuff, and a three foot wide solid wall went up on
both sides of it, from floor to ceiling.  I felt like I was at the Hilton.
Ok, not the Hilton.  Maybe a nice Holiday Inn.  It took me a few minutes to
figure out the weird water fixture in there, and I almost gave up until I
realized that all I had to remember was that hot and cold were in opposite
directions of normal, and the red 'up' arrow meant down.

Once I had the hang of it, I cranked up the water pressure and got lost in
thought.  It gave me time to think about how cool Saturday had been:

After the run in the forest with John, we had come back to a great mess of
pizza, and the four of us spent a lot of time bull-shitting about whatever
popped into our heads.  The thing that was great is that we didn't do
anything spectactular.  Just being there and fitting in was good enough,
and I was glad they weren't treating me like a guest. I felt like one of
them, and it was a great feeling. It seemed like the more I got to know
them, the less I cared about how I looked, or how I sounded when I spoke.
I started caring less about my image, and I stopped trying to act older.
They seemed pretty good with me just the way I am.  Later that evening
before we'd all crashed, we played some blackjack.  We had a great time
harrassing and laughing at James as he flipped through channels on the TV
looking for the perfect B-movie.  The guy is way too consumed.

I think that guys like him should fake being chill, even if it's painful
for them. I mean, all of the pennies he won during blackjack were perfectly
stacked, and when he placed wagers, he treated the pennies like they were
$100 dollar bills. I thought it distracted from his hotness a little, and
he'd be way more attractive if he was a little more sloppy, like James and
Troy.  Those two guys knew how to handle a penny.

I'm not sure how long I had been showering, but I tried to make it short,
since I didn't want to drain the hot water supply. The hot water in our
trailer lasts for exactly ten minutes.  It's way too rushed to get
everything accomplished that fast.

I was startled back to the moment when someone flung open the bathroom
door.  Not that I could see out through the frosted glass of the shower
door, or that they could see in, but it still made me jump. All I could see
was a shape out there, and the person walked over to one of the two
urinals.

Shortly after that, a second person came in and took the other stall,
followed by a third person, who went over by the sink area.

We had company. Doesn't anyone sleep in anymore?

Even with the shower running, I heard them talking to each other.  They
weren't voices I recognized, and it sounded like they were joking around.

It went on like that for several minutes - the talking.  I figured they
were friends of James, since I hadn't seen Troy or John around yet.  I was
in no hurry to get out of the shower, so I just took my time while they did
their thing.

Eventually everyone filtered out of there except for one dude, so at least
there didn't seem to be a whole army of guys that would be busting through
the door in an endless stampede.

So I just went about my business with the last thing I always do, which is
to wash my hair. I had two choices, and I went with the coconut scent.  And
as I lathered up my hair, I wondered if the apple would have been a better
choice. Now I was going to smell tropical all day.

Whatever.

As I went about my ritual, the one remaining guy opened the door to the
other shower stall next to mine at one point - I guess to check it out or
to be nosy.  I get nosy when I'm in other people's bathrooms too, because
you can discover all kinds of great shit - like if they floss or not, or if
they have 'roids.

Even though I knew whoever was next to me couldn't see me through the
distorted glass bricks, he could have looked through that opening where the
shampoo and soap dish is, so I turned in the other direction as I rinsed
the soap out of my hair.

It was shortly after that, that I heard a voice.

"Knock Knock."  The voice said.

I nearly jumped.

"Yo... 'sup?"  I asked.

"You're Devon, right?"

"Yep...  and?"  I asked, wondering why the hell anyone would strike up a
conversation with someone who's taking a shower.

He paused... almost too long to answer.

"Me and you might want to talk sometime when you can break away.  I'll be
around later."

"Huh?  Dude, what's this about?  Who ARE you?"  Instead of answering, he
said:

"If you like your freedom, you might want to avoid this place."

When I turned around, he was walking out of the shower stall, and towards
the door.

"Tonight."  He said, on the way out.

Talk about bizarre.  Why would a stranger be concerned about my freedom
being in danger?  How the hell would he know, and why would he care?  I
didn't even get a look at him, so how would I know it's him even if I saw
him?  I saw dark hair - through the bumpy brick glass, but otherwise he was
a blur.

I tired to put it out of my head as I came out of the shower and dried off.

And at that weird moment, it made perfect sense that I'd forgotten to bring
my clothes with me, so I put the same boxers back on, and headed out.

As I walked past the kitchen area, I din't see anyone, and the clothes and
pamplets that were on the ironing board were gone.

I continued on back over to the sofas, and pulled out some clean clothes
from my backpack.  Not much to choose from there, so I put on my favorite
blues shorts, and a black tee-shirt. Then I figured I'd take a look around
and see if anything was going on outside.

There was only one car and Troy's motercycle parked out there.  Whoever had
stormed the place were all gone.  But whoever had been chopping wood, was
still at it.

I followed the sound of the falling axe, and found that it was John.  I was
pretty surprised, because he didn't seem the type of guy that would do
something like that for his health.  But who knows, maybe I had him figured
wrong.

"Hey man.  You finally pulled your lazy ass out of bed?" He asked.

He took a swing at the wood round he'd been hacking at, and let the axe
stay stuck in it.  He straighted up, and moved his neck from side to side,
like he was trying to work out a pulled muscle.

"Yeah," I replied, "I had a dream that someone from Al Qaeda was pounding
nails into my skull, and I guess the sound woke me up."

He laughed.

"Sorry about the noise.  James is the one who put me up to doing this.

I shrugged one shoulder, like his apology was only partially accepted.

"He's got me and Troy exactly where he likes us: At his command." He added.

He squinted his eyes at me, as if he'd just spotted something.

"Dude, are you feeling OK?  You look kinda tweaked."

"I'm good.  This is how I always look in the morning." I said.  But I
wanted to run back inside to look at myself in the mirror, to see what he
was talking about.  That shampoo was a a big mistake.  That had to be it.

"So is James planning to have a bunch of girl scouts over or something?
Why all the wood?" I asked.

"He's inviting some of his personal friends over this evening for a bonfire
and barbecue. He does it all the time, and he gets all worked up about it.
He likes everything to be perfect."

"Sounds sorta fun." I said.  "So where'd Troy head off to?"

"Pickin' up a shitload of chicken and the charcoal for the grill.  He's
been gone over an hour, so who knows what's up with his slow ass."

As he stood there all 'man conquers tree' looking, I realized that he
looked good from every angle.

"They have these little things called cell phones. You could always call
Troy and make sure he didn't get mauled by pitbulls or something."  I
offered.

"Yeah, right.  Try telling that to James.  He thinks that when we come to
the barn that we should return to the stone age.  Things like phones and
technology interfere with his tranquility as he pursues closeness with
Jesus."

"Huh?" I asked.

It's a long story Wonder Boy.  But you get used to it. He's probably out
trying to convert some happy atheist over to his way of thinking as we
speak. That's what get's him off.  Converting people.

"Morman?"  I asked.

"Nope.  I think it's something new-ish.  All I know is that he's big on
spreading the word and living a simple life, and he's very careful about
which doors he knocks on."

"Careful?  Like the church is careful about who joins?"

"Not sure.  I don't talk to James that much about it.  But I've wondered if
he's using the church, and he has a sub-species thing going on.  He gets
close with teens that are easy to manipulate.  The barn events aren't
sponsored by the church, but I think the kid's parents are either clueless,
or that they are being told something that makes it seem OK."

"OK, so it sounds like you want to avoid telling me that he's up to no
good."  I guessed outloud.

"Hey, pretty good for a freshman.  But yeah, that's what I was trying not
to say."

"Anyway, if you feel like giving me a hand, I could use that round over
there." He added.

I saw where he was looking, and it looked pretty heavy - but I figured I
could tip it over, and roll it to him.

"Whatever."  I said, agreeing to help.

"You ever think of telling him to fuck-off?  You know, when he bosses you
around?"  I asked.

"Yep.  Me and Troy tore him a new one about it.  But you'll understand
better when you get to know James.  It's like there's two of him, and he
does the God thing on the weekends, and chases skirts or whatever he can
fuck during his free time. But he's also brilliant when it comes to doin'
shit for the three of us as a team - like planning for the frat pad, or
keeping us motivated for our workouts.  He's got Troy by the balls, and
that's a story in itself."

"Weird," I said, "Seems like Troy would have more say-so since this is his
place."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"So," I asked, "are these personal friends James invited over all part of
his new-ish strange church?"

"Yep.  So no cussing tonight.  James trys not to swear around his
fol... friends, and I've never heard him slip up once."

"Got it."  I replied.

"So check it out, aren't you glad I shoved some nice James 911 at ya?"  He
asked, laughing.

I smiled, and shook my head that 'no', I wasn't.

But I shouldn't judge. So what, if James lives two lives?  As long as no
one gets hurt, it's all good.  Besides, I'd never met a real-life God
fearing, manipulative sex addict before, so it would be kind of fun getting
to know him better at some point just so I can better understand what his
church motives are.  I would have never guessed that he was super
religious.

Anyway, it felt great talking with John on a different level.  And it came
at a time when I needed to talk to someone I knew, after the weird morning
I'd had. Plus, now I had a clue at least, about what the guy in the
bathroom might have meant.  Maybe he meant James was somehow a threat to my
freedom.  Who knows?

And talking with John out there was really the first time that I got to see
his true personality and the way he thinks, without the topic being about
one of us.  It made me see him in a way that had nothing to do with how
sexy or handsome he is.  Maybe it's the way he accepts me that I like about
him. I hope I don't screw it up somehow.  I'm known for that.

Once he had a decent stack of chopped wood, he stopped and took a breather.
And we continued talking for a while until we saw Troy pull up to the barn.
I wondered who's car he'd been driving.

As we strolled over to help him unload, it was obvious that he'd bought
more than just chicken and charcoal.  At about that same time, Troy's mom
was driving up to us coming from the direction of the main house.  As she
came to a stop, she tapped on the horn, rolled down the truck window, and
batted her eyes a few times, like she was re-alligning a contact lens.

"Hi sugar."  She said to Troy.

"Morning mother."

"Sweety," she twanged, "momma had herself a premonition which presented
itself this mornin'.  It was the image of yer daddy's dropped-jaw as he saw
ya'll mow him that lawn patch up front yonder.  'course I'd never dream of
blabbin' a sacred word that it was me who planted you a charmin' deed-seed
like that."

Troy looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't.

"Mum's the word mother.  I'll take care of the lawn today."

"That's momma's big strong mawyin.  If I had two hearts, I'd donate one to
ya'll on the spot, and the other'd stand and clap."  She said, driving off.

"Patato salad," Troy yelled out as the car moved away.

She held out a hand and wiggled her fingers, to let him know she'd heard
his request.

"I knew I forgot something." Troy said to John and me.

His handsome face was lightly blushed, and he was showing his famous
dimples on each side of an embarrassed smile. I don't know why he was
embarrassed, I'd kill to have a mom like that.

Once we'd brought everything into the kitchen, we realized that we'd need
an ice-chest to hold all of the stuff that wouldn't fit in the mini fridge.
So Troy took off to the main house to take care of the lawn job and to pick
up the chest and some ice.

Soon afterwards, James returned, and he had with him a guy that I
recognized from our school.  They were wearing the same white shirts and
ties, and you could tell that they were probably church buddies, but not
real friends.  They didn't have that vibe.

John knew the guy, and spoke first.

"Hey dudes, 'sup?  You guys score any Jesus points today?"  He asked.

The new guy smiled.

"We think so, but you never know."  He said in a voice-changing crackle.  I
knew that voice.

Looking at him, I realized what a fluke it was to be hanging around the
famous track-trio.  This guy was pretty average: Brown hair, combed
straight back with some kind of gel that made it look shiney.  He had a
small cluster of three or four pimples on his forehead that were in
'end-stage', soft brown eyes, a medium build, and was around my height.  He
was far from homely though, and maybe even oddly handsome. His name tag
said, 'Ryan'.

"There were more of you this morning, weren't there?  I thought I heard
voices when I was in the shower earlier."  I asked.

"Yeah, we always go out in groups of six, we use the barn as a pit-stop
since it's our last pick-up."  Ryan replied.

"Cool," I said looking to James, "anyone from Grant?"

"Yep, a few from our school.  I'll introduce you to them tonight."

"Um, yeah, John told me about the party.  Sounds great." I managed.

Judging by the cracking voice, and the nervous way Ryan had been shifting
his weight from foot to foot, I don't think I really needed to look much
further to confirm he was the guy in the bathroom.  And after what John had
told me about James and his tight clan, everything added up.  I wondered if
James had a head-lock on the guy, and he was stuck putting up with the
recruitment stuff.  I decided to let it all play out, because there was no
way to be 100% sure I had the right guy.

After the introduction, the two headed to the bathroom to change back into
their street clothes.

As the day progressed, we'd all pitched in and made everything come
together under the careful direction of James.

Out on the back side of the barn we set up a horseshoe pit, and James gave
me a dart board that I had to hang on a specific tree.  Troy was in charge
of the barbeque, and he told me all about his charcoal briquette placement
stategy, which had made perfect sense.  James and the new guy set up a
picnic table with a bunch of paper plates and that kind of thing.  Ryan had
been in charge of folding paper napkins and he made them all look like
origami angels.  He was super fast at it.

I didn't do much myself, but I'm not used to the routine like they are, so
I was sorta lost, and more importantly - off the hook.

People started showing up at around 5:00 P.M., and there was a mixture of
both guys and girls.  Mostly guys though.  Some of them I recognized from
Grant High, but there were quite a few I'd never seen before. I'd say there
were somthing like 25 or 30 people, and once everyone had porked out on
chicken and potato salad, they all sort of spread out thinly, so that some
were outside playing the games, some were over around the bonfire, and
others were inside the barn snacking on chips and visiting with each other.

The only sorta stange religious things that happened were how everyone had
joined hands in one giant circle, and said a prayer around the picnic table
before they'd chowed down on the food. James had led the prayer, and
everyone took queues on when it was their turn to chant something. It
sounded like a G-rated rap song in slow motion.  I didn't know the words,
which were chanted in Latin, so I had just stood back and watched.  The
other thing I noticed was that the girls all looked at James like he was
the second coming.  It was this astonished adoring look, like Beeber girls
get.

Girls are so weird.

By then, John had taken a shower and was now wearing a clean version of
what he had on earlier: This time it was faded green sweat shorts and an
old tee-shirt complete with moth holes.  He looked hotter than ever.  I
guess it doesn't take much when you look like that.  I wanted to be horny
because of it.  And lucky for me, I was.

I think being horny is awesome, because it lasts all day long, and you
don't have to take ginseng or something to get a good feeling.  When I get
old I'm going to get a tee-shirt printed that says, 'Of all the things I've
ever lost, I miss my hormones the most." I dread that day.

Anyway, John had said that he wanted me to hang with him during the party,
because he didn't care for the crowd, and how could I disagree with that?

We ended up over by the bonfire, which was putting off a pretty good flame
by then.  We were each sitting on some up-right rounds of wood that had
been placed there from a previus event.

We talked on and off.  But I felt like being quiet.  I had been throwing
little pieces of wood into the fire, pretending like they were tourist
buses full of burning people.  So far, no one had survived.

After a while, a couple walked over to us, and introduced themselves as
Mandy and Tig.  They were holding hands, and rocking them back and forth
like a swing. I could tell that they were totally love-struck.  "We were
just talking with James, and he tells us you've made varsity track, and you
run like a jack rabbit on Jesus juice."  The girl said.

Her boyfriend tried to translate for her.

"That's Mandy's way of saying we hear you're heck-ish fast, and you can
kick some serious rear-end on the track."

I was impressed that at least one of them knew how to swear.

"James is just exaggerating. I'm learning that he can be frickin'
dastardly," I swore back.

They both smiled and nodded, like they thought that about James too.

So me and John decided they were OK, and we talked with them for quite a
while after that.

As the evening wore on, I met a several of the other people, and said 'hey'
to the ones I knew from Grant.  And there came a time when I saw Ryan
standing alone, over by the back side of the barn.  So I got up and walked
over to him.

"Hey man."  He said as I approached.

"Ryan dude," I said, "You're not thinking of burning down the barn are ya?"

He grinned an 'aw shucks' look at me.

"That'd be a sin."  He replied.

"True, is that why you're hesitating?"

"Yeah, plus I didn't have a match," he joked, "I thought you'd figure out
it was me from... earlier.  I wanted to see if you'd come over here and I
didn't want to but in with you and that senior guy."

"Yeah, I figured it was you.  The voice gave you away. So what was up with
all the mysterious talk in the bathroom?  You practically scared the skin
off of me."

"I just figured I wouldn't have many chances to get your attention, so when
I realized that it was you in the shower, I went for it".

He took in a giant breath, and then sighed.

"Can I trust you?" He asked.

"100%.  I'm trustworthy as toll-taker when it comes to secrets."  I said,
watching my language.

"Ok, so this is going to all sound pretty strange, so get ready: I think
James is using sins against us - the guys and girls in the church.  He gets
us to admit our biggest fears and our biggest secrets and our shortcomings
so he can help us pray about them.  He does it in a way that seems
completely unselfish.  He makes us feel like FINALLY, someone is listening
to us."

"Darn," I said, "I take it you have some kind of proof that he's up to bad
things?"

"I think so, yeah.  Because he's doing it with me."

"As in how?" I asked.

"This is gonna sound kinked, but I told him something about me a while
back, and everything was good for a long time.  But now that you're around,
he wants to use me to influence you - because me and you have something in
common."

"Something in common?"

He nodded.

"And it's not that we're both freshmen, or that we love running.  I avoid
running at all costs."  He added.  "Keep going."  I said, trying to play
down that James had told this guy about my own skeleton.

"He told me all about you, and track, and the other part.  He thinks if I
can get you in my good graces, that he'd be able to get you hooked into the
church.  I'm supposed to tell you how awesome it is, and that kind of
thing. That's what he does."

"Why would he even care if I was a member of the church?"

"That's just it.  He doesn't care about saving your soul.  That's just a
cover, and a way to position himself over you in the form of his church
authority.  We are expected to respect that authority as part of the
churchs' order.  That's the first step to getting us under his control."

"Hmm," I said, "what happens next?"

"Sometimes it takes a long time for him to use you to suit his needs.  With
the girls, he uses it to get sex with virgins.  They do it because they
idolize him, and I'm not sure what else.  But mostly they do it because he
knows their sins.  In the back of their minds, they know he's got the dirt
on them.  Stuff they don't want anyone to know.  It's not blackmail either.
It's just an unspoken form of control.  He uses the guys in other ways.
Like forcing us to walk door to door with the pamplets, even if we don't
want to.  Or to do things for him - like setting up the parties, or spying
on people he doesn't trust."

I thought about how John told me that James has Troy 'by the balls'.

"Ok, so you're telling me this because you want to save me from all of
that.  I get it.  But why don't you just quit the church.  That would solve
it."

"Try telling that to my parents.  Not going to church is not an option," He
replied.

I thought about it...

"Well, he needs to be stopped.  For one thing, what he's doing with the
girls is about as close as you can get to rape.  For me to avoid him isn't
going to solve a thing.  Maybe we can beat him at his own game..."

"Huh?"  He asked.

"Let me work on it.  I think he needs to start making some 'careless'
mistakes that will expose him for the monster he is.  Maybe me and you can
make some of those mistakes easy for him to make."

He smiled, and looked like he was imagining it.

"Count me in."  He said.

"Oh, and one more thing..."  He added.

"What's that?"  I asked.

"Nice ass."

I shoved him.

"Dude, you need to keep your christian eyes off my butt when a dude's
trying to take a shower, and stop using swear words like that."

We laughed as we headed back in the direction of the bonfire.

John was still sitting there, and he'd taken up my hobby of throwing small
wood fragments into the fire.

I think Ryan was pretty surprised when I started talking about our plan to
John.  But once he saw that John was in our camp, he seemed good with it.

John had told us that usually around this time, James and Troy bring a few
'special guests' up to the loft, where they have their weekly romp.  And
also how it's usually a different set of girls every few weeks or so, as
they get bored with the same faces.  Ryan and I were pretty disgusted, but
it also gave me an idea that I decided to give a try.  It'd take a lot of
luck for it to work, but I thought it was worth a shot. So I excused myself
to the restroom, as a trip to the barn was necessary in order to pull the
whole thing off.

I guess I was pretty sly about it, because even though there were people
around, no one noticed what I was up to.  I even had the balls to casually
munch on a hand full of prezels as I did my dirty work.  It worried me that
I was so good at it, and I wondered if I had inherited grandpa's theft
gene.  Genes always skip a generation you know.

After returning to the bonfire, my plan took a lucky turn for the good, and
about 30 minutes into our continuing conversation with Ryan it happened.

James and Troy had both approached us, with adoring girls tagging along
just behind them.

"Hey Devon," James said, "we're headed up to the loft if you feel like
coming up a little later - you know - if you happen to find a date."

He'd said it in a quiet voice, like he was letting me in on some huge
hushed secret.

I glanced over at John, without moving my head.

"Um, awesome.  Sounds like pretty good motivation for me to get busy."  I
said, trying to fake a sly grin.

"It'll be your official welcome to the boys club initiation." Troy added,
matching my grin.

Once they walked away, I had around 10 minutes to sell my plan to Ryan.

The only details I gave him were that he'd need to be my 'date' if it was
going to work.  Which was a white lie, if you want to know the truth.  But
I wanted to see the boys in action, even though the plan could work without
us being up there with them.

Sick, right?

"So dude" I said to Ryan, "our excuse to go up there has to look good.  I
figure that we don't have to do anything like hump or something.  But we
should at least make out.  I mean, if that grosses you out, just say so.
But if you're anything like me, you probably need the practice."

"That's disgusting," Ryan said with a smile that proved him a liar.

I think he threw an instant boner, but I can't be sure.

Everything was falling into place, and by the time we got up there, both
guys were doin' the nasty with the girls, bangin' like you wouldn't
believe.

They stopped mid-thrust, and looked over at us as we walked in on them.
For a minute, me and Ryan just sorta got locked into looking at the two
huge senior cocks, all red and throbbing.  And we got to see two of the
most awesome asses that anyone would ever in a million years have the luck
to see.

And Once the two of us started making out, they went back to their
business, satisfied that I had found a 'date'.

Neither one of us was very good at kissing, but it didn't matter.  Just
being able to do that with someone that didn't mind doing it was
mind-blowing.  But Ryan's not my type, so to me, it was nothing more than
good practice.

He got so boned up that he got all brave and shit, and even started
grabbing my butt.  So I did the same thing back to him, just to be a good
sport about it.

And through it all, me and Ryan had perfect seats to the show below us.
Every now and then we'd come up for air and watch the hot guys humping.
That was the part I liked best. They were making all sorts of cool passion
noises that were getting louder as they went.  We were loving it.  I'm not
sure about Ryan, but the girls just sort of blurred out, and I didn't even
see them.  But the sounds they were making were impossible to ignore - and
they were just as turned on as the guys.

I think girls are much too delicate and frail to have sex with guys. Guys
have all those muscles and bulky weight for them to deal with.  They would
be much happier if they dated other girls, so they could be nice and gentle
with each other.  But that's just my opinion.

Troy was the first to go off, and he whispered something into the girl's
ear, and then started pumping like an oil well.  The dude was moaning and
thrusting so hard that I thought he'd break her.

"Oh yeah, oh FUCK!", He growled loudly enough for people down stairs to
hear. And even though we didn't get to see him shoot, it was pretty easy to
imagine all of that cum wildly exploading out of his jacked-up cock as his
ass clenched up in a maxed-out solid muscle. His arms expanded in even
bigger, and he looked like a primitive beast holding down his prey.

"Devon," Ryan said into my ear, "this is going to make a pretty bad sin
happen to me - like really soon."

"Don't be ridiculous."  I whispered back.

His cock was smashed up agaist mine, and he had been grinding it into me.
I was feeling the effects myself after watching all the firewords below us.
But Ryan seemed more into me than the show.

"Dude, the plan is working... just hang in there and remember that it's not
even real."  I said into his ear, and hoping the guy could hold out.

Our lips locked again, and only seconds went by.

He pulled his away, briefly.

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to make it stop.  I'm really sorry."  He mumbled.

And it was all over for him. He pulled even tighter against me, and started
moaning into my lips.  His tongue practically flew down my throat, and one
hand slipped under the waistband of my shorts, grabbing my ass like he was
the new owner.  His first violent explosion jammed our hard cocks up as he
started going off, and he was totally shaking.

I could feel each smashing blast inside of his cut-offs rupturing, like a
trapped tidal wave with no escape.  And it was just the thought of him
shooting his load like that, that made me wonder what I'd gotten myself
into.

By then, Troy had rolled over on his back, and he'd tossed his spent condom
off in some dark corner of the loft.

James was still at it, and he and the girl were on fire.

I just sorta held Ryan up as I watched James' perfect body flexing and
pounding.  And I'm not sure if it's that super amped up testosterone cum
that Troy thinks I have, but Ryan's dick was staying crazy-hard, and it
just stayed that way even after his breathing had started to slow.

I couldn't take my eyes off of James.  I mean, he might be an asshole, but
he has the kind of looks that could easily make the cover of any fitness
magazine.  He didn't have the muscles that Troy has, but he has a body that
any guy would want.

And when he hit the point of no return, it got really hard for him to talk,
but he managed to say loud enough for anyone in the loft to hear:

"This is for you and Jesus."

That would have been a total buzz-kill for me, but the girl seemed to like
hearing that.

And he went into a wild orgasm that was every bit as hot Troy's.

Watching that giant cock make those forceful plunges, all the way out, then
all the way in, was awesome.  I felt like asking him to slow down so I
would watch longer, but that would have been wrong.

When the humping and moaning slowed to a stop, he pulled his defeated
hardness from inside of the girl - and that is when all hell broke loose.

He sat up on his knees, and about three inches of his bare cock was
sticking out of a busted condom.  The ivory skin was glistening, and his
mushroom head was still leaking cum like a faulty faucet.  Everyone in the
room went dead quiet.

"No.  NOOOOOO!  This didn't happen.  This did NOT happen!  Not to ME!  Oh
my GOD!

The girl looked where his eyes were focused, and her eyes widened to the
size of silver dollars.

She sat up, and dramatically slapped him across the face.

"You animal!  You just got me pregnant!  Daddie's gonna know.  He senses
things."

"You aren't on the..."

"Of course I'm not on the pill.  I'm the preacher's daughter for god's
sake. You filthy animal!  You had to know that thing broke.  You KNEW, and
you just kept going anyway!"

She busted into massive tears, and mascara stuff started running all over
the place.  She looked like a young Tammy Fay.

It was a short conversation, and James looked like he was searching the
depths of his brain to find the words - any words - that would somehow make
it all go away.  But the words never came out.

The two girls were dressed and out of there before Troy and James were even
halfway dressed.

They were both deathly quiet.  And Ryan and me knew better than to utter a
single peep.

And just before the two guys were ready to go down the ladder, Troy said:

"Dude, you better hope she's not preggers 'cause she'll keep the baby you
know..."

"Shut the fuck up Troy." James said coldly.

Troy Ignored him.

"Well, I'm just glad it's your nightmare and not mine."  Troy replied.

"What are you two butt-whores looking at?" James said to me and Ryan.

And they disappeared to confront the reality of the party below.

Ryan and I were now alone.  And Ryan had this crazy look on his face.

"Devon, I think me and you just witnessed a miracle.  If that doesn't bring
James to his knees, nothing will."

"Dude, you might call it God's intervention - but the miracle had a little
help..."

"Huh?" He asked.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out James' church name tag, turning it
over in my hand, and emphasizing the sharp point of the needle latch on
back.

"When I excused myself to the restroom earlier, I found this.  Then I paid
a visit to his duffle bag and found a single condom in there.
So..... um...... I practiced a little voodo.  I'm not sure how many holes I
poked through the foil wrap, but apparently it was enough to make the
rubber bust once he put it to use."

"No!"  Ryan said.  .  "Yep.  And I know, I know - you're gonna say that
voodo is a sin, right?"

"Nope, not this time," he replied through a grin, "that guy needed someone
who had enough balls and brains to bring him down hard.  He'll never
recover from this.  Never.  What you did might have been your idea, but God
inspired it."

Hopefully that meant that I won't burn in hell, which is what I probably
deserve.  I mean, what I did might have brought James down, but it may have
also ruined that poor girl's life.  I'm not so sure I'll ever get over
that.

After giving Troy and James a good head start, we made our way down the
ladder as well.  I made a pit-stop to the restroom - for real this time.

When I returned to the bonfire Ryan was sitting there, but John was no
where to be seen.

"Hey," I said, "why the bummed look?  I thought you were all happy and
shit..."

I sat next to him.

"Yeah, well I just talked to John."

"And?"

"He said he felt like a night-time run, so that's where he is," he said,
pointing in the direction of the logging road, "he left just before you got
here."

"So, what did he say?" I asked.

"He said that while we were away he had time to think.  He said that even
though he knows our fake make-out session in the loft was part of the plan
to shake James down from his tree, that I'm to keep my hands off of you in
the real world."

"WHAT!?"

"Yep.  He said that if you're going to be making out with anyone in the
near future, it's gonna be with him."

And I just sat there, totally stunned.

"Get the fuck outta here!  He actually likes me?  As in LIKES me?"

"Big time.  And it gets worse," he said, "the dude had tears in his eyes."

There was only one thing I could do - and that's what I do best.

I jumped up, and guided by nothing but a bright full moon and the dark tree
line, I took off running towards the logging road. And my feet, who never
let me down, took it upon themselves to shift into a gear that I've never
had to use before... did I mention that I'm fast?

*************************************

Trick or treat?  lol.  I hope you liked chapter 3.

Cheers!  bain

**I've really enjoyed the comments I've gotten with the story - Thank you!
dozedaze@gmail.com