Black and White

All Disclaimers

BLACK AND WHITE

Chapter 85--Catching Up

The rain drummed against our dark, bedroom window. Welcome home, it droned. Well, it was fall. This IS the Northwest. What did I expect? I rolled over and touched Dave's shoulder gently. He stirred, but didn't awaken. It had been little better than a year, but how I loved this man. I probably loved him from the first time I'd eventually talked to him. I didn't know how much, until the trauma of his wife throwing him out of their house and him moving in "temporarily" with me. It seems like a lifetime ago. Even the divorce and the recognition of our mutual love had come on suddenly. He took to gay life like a duck to water. With me along as his guide and lifeline, he'd sampled everything he'd wanted.

But, losing his job (because he was gay) had hit him hard. The uncertainty of ever working again made him crazy with worry. But, Fortune smiles on children and two, loving, gay men. We met a rich attorney who wrangled a healthy "wrongful termination and slander" settlement out of Dave's old law firm. Surprisingly, the rich attorney didn't charge us for his services. He did it because he loved sticking it to the hated, senior partner.

Our life together had been eventful, never boring. And I owed it all to this beautiful, black man lying next to me. He brought out the best in me, coaxed me out of my social shell and got me involved with men and causes I'd never dreamed of touching alone. I did owe him a lot. I only hoped that I was investing our settlement money wisely. So far, we'd made out like bandits in a depressed stock market.

I sighed contentedly, lightly stroked his thick, broad shoulder cap, and went back to sleep.

Dave woke me up pressing against my back, draping an arm over my chest. He loved to snuggle early in the morning before getting out of bed. Of course, most mornings, he had a very hard dick pressed into my back or between my legs, trying to burrow between my ass cheeks. This morning was no exception. I wiggled my ass back into him.

"I thought you'd never wake up," he whispered. "Want me to show you how much I love you?" he cackled.

"Like I have a choice?" I groaned, not fully awake.

"You always have a choice, Mike; except for this morning," he laughed. "Reclamation time!"

I knew what that meant. He was feeling some distance between us because other men had been enjoying sex with us, and he hadn't had a chance to mate with just me. "I could never turn you down," I smiled over my shoulder at him. "What's your favorite position this morning?"

"Sit on my dick like you did Kurt's last night?"

"Let me take a leak first," I begged. "My bladder's about to burst."

After taking care of business, I walked back to Dave's side of the bed. His tall phallus was throbbing, dripping clear precum fluid above his navel. I leaned over and licked up the overflow, then, went to the source and sucked hard. My tongue lashed over the big head, licking up as much precum as I could squeeze out of the spongy head. Dave's fingers busily pushed lube up my ass, knowing that I was going to be spread and drilled deeply. With a final flourish, he wiped off excess lube on to his towering butt- stretcher.

"We haven't fucked like this in ages," he said.

"This position, you mean?" He nodded and grinned. "I always thought you might go too deep, so I didn't do it."

"Not hardly the case," he laughed. "With all the men we've been doing, how could your ass not be able to take on your favorite dick in any position?" He smiled up at me. "A little variety in men and positions does help make sex more fun. But, for me, I'll never find one as good as you, Mike."

"That kinda talk will get you anything you want," I assured him. "Anything!"

"I'll settle for your hot ass eating my dick for the next several minutes," Dave moaned as he felt his thick dickhead press hard against my eager sphincter, then, slide slowly into me. "Yeah, like that! DAMN!" he crooned. More inches slipped into me, throbbing as they stretched my ass delightfully. The lube assisted the one-slow-stroke entry. Both of us moaned when I felt his wiry pubes scratch against my back door. I clamped down on his thick root and wiggled. "I was thinking about how good this would be while you were in the bathroom," Dave whispered. "But, this is better."

I leaned over and kissed him, his hips rising as I bent forward, keeping his monster deeply seated inside me. My hard dick rubbed between us, as he held me in his warm embrace, our tongues dueling. Dave's big hands cupped my muscular ass, spreading my cheeks, and slowly pistoning his thick dick into me. The more passionately we kissed, the longer his strokes. I milked him slowly, keeping pace with his thrusts.

"I'm gonna cum soon," he murmured around a kiss. "You always get me to cum whenever you want." I smiled at him and resumed playing tonsil hockey with him, and milking his boner harder than before. My leg muscles were starting to bunch up. I didn't want a cramp in the middle of his climax, while I was sucking down his load with my ass. The more effort I put into milking his black saber, the harder he fucked me.

The familiar cues surfaced in rapid order: his breathing became choppy, his thrusts up my ass more frantic, and there was a notable swelling of the head and shaft of his fucking sword. I sat back on his pumping dick, making sure all 11" of his monster were inside me. He pulled down on my hips with both hands as he thrust upwards in rapid fashion. My dick swung about and slapped crazily on his hard abs as I concentrated on his pleasure, instead of my rapidly approaching climax.

"Fuck! Gonna CUM!" he exploded, ramming his manhood deeply into me, then, withdrawing several inches before slamming back inside. I bore down and milked him as best I knew how. Spreading warmth engulfed my insides. Each time he jerked, I felt more warm wetness spread through my guts. I wiggled and clamped down with each thrust, wanting to give him maximum stimulation as he came inside me.

Control slowly returned to his muscles, his hips continuously banging away at my ass, sowing his seed deeply into me. His eyes open and he smiled. Moving like the black cat that he is, he kept up the slow, fucking pace. His legs pushed me forward as his face leaned in. Warm, soft, full lips closed over my dripping dickhead. I pushed forward, pulling off about half his dick, but pushing my dick deeper into his mouth. He hummed and tongue-lashed at my sensitive dickhead. Again, I pushed back harder on to his slowly deflating manhood. I couldn't believe how big he is! Dave's lips left my dick for a second, but his tongue continued flicking at it.

His fingers had been busy, too. He knew of the direct connection between my nips and dick. With a few pulls and twists, he had me at the brink of a climax. My dickhead swelled between his lips, my ass clamped down harder, and my moans of pleasure reached a fever pitch. Dave crammed his sizeable dick into my hungry ass, fucking me faster and deeper, even though his dick was shrinking. But, the extra stimulation on my prostate had added the final ingredient. In a flash of hot pleasure, I came hard.

Dave sucked and drank gleefully. I bucked and fucked forward and backward, going for as much stimulation and pleasure as I could find. Losing control, I leaned forward, catching myself with my outstretched arms, quivering above Dave's sucking face as he drank deeply of my cream. I could feel his load leaking out around his thrusting dick, but I didn't have sufficient control to keep his warm cum from exiting. My relaxing balls were coated in his man juice, but I was concentrating on his sucking lips, drinking down the last squirts of my load.

He pushed me up, still sucking on my dick, and sitting me more deeply on his dick. A hand stroked my dick, coaxing out any remaining spooge before his lips released me. I sat back on his hips, engulfing his dick, again, with my ass tunnel. Dave's hands moved down my chest and abs, resting briefly on my dick, trying to strip out more cum. He smiled up at me, licking his lips for any of my errant cream. "I could cum up your ass every hour, if you'd let me," he grinned.

"I'm not stopping you," I smiled back.

"Yeah, you are," he countered. "That big dick of yours and that beautiful, furry chest forces me to get fucked by you. I can't do both!"

"A pleasant dilemma, if ever I heard one," I replied. "But, right now, I'm making a puddle with all the cum you shot up my ass." I pulled off his large dick with a wet plop. "Just like in San Francisco, you're babies want OUT!" I laughed, racing to the bathroom just in time.

We plowed through our mail again, writing checks for bills, grinding up solicitations, free checks, and other nonsense mail. Most of the morning, we spent reading accumulated magazines and other periodicals. The afternoon, we spent responding to e-mail and phone messages that had been left. Nearly all the phone messages were about 9/11 and the people who worried about us. We returned all of them, assuring our worried friends and relatives that we were well, and had enjoyed our European trip. Some, we told a few of the salacious details; but, most calls were brief.

Finally, we couldn't take it anymore and headed off for the gym. The workout did us a lot of good, releasing tensions we didn't even know we had. Coaches Randy and Chuck were there, exhausted after a day of training with the team. However, they weren't too exhausted to couple with us in the steam room after our workout. I rode Randy's hot, black ass while Dave pounded Chuck's eager hole. We finished our trysts with creamy quantities of their cum down our throats. They'd missed us, they'd said. Chuck insisted that we get together later in the week for an early dinner. There was too much to do and too much going on to have a proper evening of entertainment, now. But, Randy added, there were a couple of new players that they'd enjoyed before the season started. "And they need frequent servicing, having no permanent men in their lives," Chuck laughed.

"So, invite them to dinner!" Dave begged. "We can sort them out later for more 'in depth' conversations." They agreed to call them and extend an invitation.

We recounted a few of our "good times" in Europe, leaving out Folsom Street for another time. Of course, they were interested in Conrad and Max, but felt so badly for Ziggy that they wanted to invite him immediately to visit them. We assured them that we were putting the pressure on him to come to the States, but he really needed to find someone in Germany for his life partner. International long-distance relationships just don't work.

At home, we returned more calls, spent a few extra minutes with Reed to see how the "hate in the media" campaign was going. He assured us that The Oprah Show had caused a sensation, doubling the requests for more information. The Oprah staff had forwarded more requests each week since the broadcast. "Some were for still photos and copies of a videotape of the two of you in your fashion show," he added. I was so glad he added that last qualifier. I was afraid he was getting requests for our "performances" at the Folsom Street Fair!

Robocop had left a message, letting us know that they'd kept an eye on the house and there had been nothing out of the ordinary to report. "Of course," he'd laughed into the recorder, "I'd love to give you a far more personal report when you have time for us. You know how much we love fuckin' with you guys!"

Our neighbors (Robert and Gary) dropped by later in the evening for drinks, and tales of our European adventures. They were as taken by Ziggy's story as the coaches were. But, Robert finally let the cat out of the bag. "Kurt tells us you have a special DVD," he smiled knowingly. We could only shrug and feign ignorance. It didn't work. "You know the one! San Francisco, Folsom Street Fair, hello?"

They had us in their sights. There was no dodging it. So, Dave pulled out the DVD in question and put it back in the player. There was immediate recognition of the principal players. Gary even knew about one of the porno stars. By then, we had to tell them the whole, ugly story, including the friendly five-way we had in our hotel room. They lapped it up eagerly.

"When are they coming up for a visit?" Gary earnestly asked.

"We haven't heard from them yet, but we've only been home a day, Gary," Dave laughed. "Give them time."

"When they do, you gotta include us! These guys are VERY hot."

"And if I don't agree?" his lover Robert asked.

"This hard dick in your pants says otherwise," he giggled, squeezing Robert's bulging crotch.

"I was only asking!" Robert laughed pulling away from his lover's groping hands.

"Well, Morgan wants to move out of San Francisco, if he can find the right man to top him and get fucked," I teased. "You know any SINGLE guys who might qualify?"

"Which one's Morgan?" Robert asked. Gary pointed him out on the screen. I pulled out the other DVD and showed him a more posed picture. "Oh, yeah. He's FINE!"

"Well, there's a guy on the team who might qualify," Gary mused.

"Someone we know?" Dave asked.

"No, he's new. I don't think you know him," Robert answered. "We've had him over to the house a couple of times for some 'slap and tickle'."

"Fuck! That guy's a horse! You sure Morgan could handle him?" Gary pressed.

"He's got big muscles," Robert persisted.

"Just how big's this guy?" I wondered.

"Shit! Monstrous!" Gary answered, but not giving me any idea what monstrous meant.

"He's like 6'6" and weighs at least 260," Robert added helpfully. "Big fucker! Gene's not had any problems getting him to the weights and adding strength. The guy's a mountain!"

"He versatile, then?" Dave continued, seeking confirmation of his possible match up with Morgan.

"He sure is with us," Robert smirked. Gary nodded eagerly. "Nice, big dick, too."

"Yeah, gotta be a good 10", maybe more," Gary sighed wistfully. "He sure knows how to use it, too."

"Black or white?" I asked. "Not that it matters."

"Polynesian, I think," Robert answered. " Samoan, I believe."

"Yeah, that's right. He told me he's from American Samoa, but he keeps his sexuality to himself, sharing only with trusted friends," Gary clarified.

"That'll work," Dave said. "Morgan's a cop in real life. Lots of need for confidentiality there."

"Yeah, that's for sure," agreed Robert.

"Well, in case they don't make it, keep looking about. Is there a picture of him on the team's internet site that I could send off to Morgan?" Dave queried.

"I'm sure there is," Robert answered. "They've always had them in the past." He glanced at his watch. "Shit! We gotta go! Bed check in five minutes!" he stormed rising from the couch. "A rain check for a roll in the hay for another day?" he grinned.

We nodded and smiled. "Always," Dave said.

"I'd stay and take you on myself," Gary suggested. "But, he'd have my hide for not giving my load to him, instead."

"Can you blame him?" I smiled. "You'd do the same in his case."

"That, I would," he agreed, heading down the front stairway with his lover in hand. "You'd better pound my ass good tonight after you made me leave Mike and Dave," he cackled, putting his arm around Robert's broad shoulders. Robert smiled over his shoulder at us, then, slid his hand over the ass of his lover and grabbed a big handful of high, tight butt.

Friday, we volunteered at PFLAG for most of the day, hitting the gym late in the afternoon. Either all the gay men were coming in later, or had already left. We were alone in the locker room. I checked again to be sure we were alone, then, pulled Dave's naked form to me. "I love you, Dave," I whispered as our lips touched. My hands slid down his back and cupped his hard ass cheeks. My fingers slipped deep into his butt trench, feeling the sweaty wetness between his muscular, butt mounds. "I could eat you all over," I added huskily. Squatting before him, I popped his growing dick into my mouth, sucking it hungrily. His hands caressed my head, pulling my mouth deeper on to his thickening, lengthening horsedick. He face-fucked me slowly for nearly a minute, but I had to keep backing off, as his dick got too big for me to deep-throat, anymore.

"Gawd! You're good," he smiled down at me. "You nearly got my nut."

"I'm saving that for later, Big Boy!" I grinned up at him, with a glint in my eye.

"You have something in that devious mind of yours, don't ya."

I stripped off my shirt and shorts. "Come with me," I said, pulling him by the hand. "You're about to get the fuck of your young life."

"And where will this event take place?"

"The steam room." I went there first, depositing my shaving kit with all the lube I'd need contained inside. "But, showers first. I know how you love to be clean before we fuck." The showers took little time. Dave stepped past me, still sporting a raging hard-on, hungry for whatever I had planned for him. As he approached the steam room door, he checked for any new persons. Satisfied, he bent over and spread his black ass for me. "Fuck, YEAH!" I crowed, turning off my shower and chasing after him.

He stood on the first level of the steam room benches, waiting for me, his big dick dripping precum already as he lazily stroked it. "What next?" he asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Lie down on these towels," I instructed, "on your back." He complied. "Raise those gorgeous legs." He spread out the towel on the next level up. "Yeah, like that." I put a towel down under my knees and knelt behind him. Pushing his knees into his chest, I began rimming his ass, slowly licking around his rosebud, but never touching it. The closer I got to my prize, the louder he moaned. When I finally hit the target, he bounced his ass up and down, trying to get my tongue to eat and drill him the way he loved it most. I was happy to comply with his needs.

"Yeah, Mike! Eat my ass! DAMN! You're GOOD at this! No one does it better!" he moaned, pulling his legs harder into his chest, spreading his ass even more.

"You need to get fucked," I said, reluctant to stop tonguing that perfect ass. But, my hard, throbbing dick was going to cum all by itself, if I didn't stop chewing on Dave's tasty, incredible ass.

"Yeah, Man. Do it. I need dick. Gotta have it. Something deep and satisfying," he grinned up at me. "Lube it up and pump me, White Bread!"

I took my time lubing up his butthole. I had to give my dick some time to cool down or I'd shoot as soon as I plugged into him. Scooting my towel in closer, I leaned over his prone body, allowing his legs to drape over my shoulders. We kissed hotly, my dick jerking each time I felt his hands on my ass or he rubbed my hairy chest. I moved in closer, my fat dickhead knocking at his greased back door.

Dave grabbed my dick and pulled me into him, the head slicing through his hungry asshole easily. "Fuck! Yeah! Big fuckin' head! DAMN! I love how it rubs against my joy button!" I smiled down at him as he moaned. "Yeah, like that," he added. "Short-dick me! I'm so close to cumming, you can fuck it outta me!" And I was so close to cumming with his tight, milking sphincter gripping my thick dickhead that I knew I wasn't going to last long at all! "Shit, I'm cumming!" he bellowed. I glanced down at his waving, hard dick and saw cum start to dribble from the tip. I bent over fast and sucked the tip between my lips, still pumping his ass with the first few inches of my nearly climaxing dick. "FUCK!" he bellowed as he felt my mouth close over the sensitive head of his black pole. I tasted a big wad of cum, then, another.

It was all over. I rammed him hard, going as far in as I could go and still maintain my lip-lock on his spraying dick. My mouth opened to echo his roaring climax, but Dave shot another big rope of white cum into me, effectively silencing me with more sperm. My body jerked. I know he felt my firing dick begin to unload in his ass. He grabbed my big ass globes and pulled me hard into him. That pulled me off his dickhead, which allowed me to shove hard and deep up his ass. He gripped my racing dick with his ass tunnel, surprised at how fast I'd entered him and how suddenly thick my dick was.

More cum sprayed out of his spasming dick, coating his abs and chest with cream. My hips kept thrusting into him, blasting baby gravy as deeply as I could squirt it. Dave held me in place, my dick root crushed hard against his opening, coursing more cum into his thirsty ass. With my climax waning, I slowly stripped his long, dripping dick with one hand, watching more creamy sperm ooze from the tip.

I began to pull out of him, but his strong hands and arms insisted that I stay inside. He smiled at my dilemma. "I need your cum in me more than you need to lick my cum off my chest," he grinned. "But, you can kiss me."

I smiled back at him. That seemed a fair trade. Pushing his legs harder into his chest, I ground my slowly shrinking dick deeper into him. He groaned, but released my ass and pulled my face down to his. "I love you, Mike," he whispered, echoing my earlier words in the locker room.

A locker door slammed shut. We broke our kiss. "Time to break this up, anyway," Dave sighed, pushing his legs back down. I exited his well-creamed rump and sat back on my haunches. He swung a leg over my head and sat up, pulling a towel over his cum-leaking, almost hard dick. I did the same. "As soon as these things cool down, we should leave," he added, nodding at the noise outside the steam room. "I think our least favorite, chatty, straight men are headed this way." His prediction was true. Within another two minutes, they wandered into the steam room and sat down about ten feet away from us. Our dicks had cooled enough by then that we could exit the room with towels strategically placed. Wrapping towels around us would have displayed tents that we didn't want to let them see.

By the time we got home, there were more phone calls and mail to deal with. Dave dealt with the phone calls and stacked my mail up on the kitchen counter. I went to my computer and found e-mail from several friends asking about how our European vacation went. All of them added that they'd seen us on Oprah and wanted to know more about how the show really went. So, I wrote a long dissertation about what I recalled about it and send that out to all of them. The European vacation recollection could wait until later.

We traded places for a few minutes. I plowed through my mail, and a couple of phone messages that had been directed to me. I tossed or shredded all the mail, then, returned the phone calls to Uncle Clay and Dad. By the time I'd finished talking to them, Dave was back downstairs with a couple of e-mails that he'd printed off.

"Uncle Clay would like us to come back again this year for New Year's Eve," I said when Dave joined me in the sunroom. "Whatcha think?"

"Sure, why not?" he answered.

"I'll send him an e-mail, then. I'm sure my nephew Josh will love it. Uncle Clay says that Josh has a new boyfriend," I smiled.

"Does he pass inspection?" Dave wondered.

"Uncle Clay and Linc think he does."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he's about Josh's age, a student, too, and they're crazy about each other."

"That's good enough for now," Dave agreed.

"What's in your hand?"

"Oh, Morgan sent an e-mail," Dave grinned. "He wants to come see us. Can you imagine?" he laughed.

"Oh, yeah, I can imagine! He wants more dick time with us."

"And, he reminded me that we promised to line him up with some single men," Dave said, glancing at the page. "We have anything coming up on any weekend this month, except the 12th? Is one better than another for us?"

"Not as far as I know," I replied. "Did you look at our 'busy' social calendar on your PDA?"

"Not yet," he responded. "I wanted to check with your brain first, before I bothered with the PDA."

"The only thing I know of that's coming up is the broadcast of "A Day in the Life Of. And I haven't any idea when that is."

"Why don't you check on the Internet and I'll check on the PDA for conflicts. Okay?" We checked both sources, but found a conflict on only this weekend. We'd promised Randy and Chuck dinner at their house on Friday night (tomorrow). That was probably too soon for Morgan to arrange vacation time, anyway.

"Go ahead and send an e-mail back to him that both weekends are fine," I said. "October 19th or 26th."

"We should plan a party for one of those days that he's here," Dave suggested.

"As soon as we know which weekend and how long he can be here, we can put something together," I agreed. "How many single friends do we have?"

"Not many," Dave laughed. "We've married off most of them."

"Well, there's always Cousin Larry," I smirked.

"He's looking for a relationship, not a hot fuck, Mike!"

"Well, Larry could settle down, one of these days," I defended.

"Yeah, and Hell could freeze over, too."

"It's not quite that bad. Besides, this may be just the guy for him to get him to settle down. You don't know until you get them together," I insisted.

"Okay, fair enough. They can decide for themselves. But, I think Morgan should be warned."

"Only if they start doing more than fucking around with each other," I warned. "Let's not pour any cold water on this before it has a chance to kindle a flame. They may not even hit it off."

"Okay, invite him, but we aren't gonna set it up like a date. I want Morgan to have alternatives," he insisted.

"With all the men we'll be inviting, he'll have the pick of the litter."

Friday morning, we raced off to Costco and Kroger's. We'd been gone a month and were out of everything. After nearly $300 at Costco, we headed back downtown to Kroger's. I hoped Jason, the wine steward, would be there. I wasn't disappointed. He took at least 15 minutes out of his busy day to talk to us. But, most of that time, he spent telling us about moving in with Randy (the guy who used to own the house we now have). "Living with someone else requires a lot of compromises," he said. Dave and I glance knowingly at each other. "I've been single for so long that I forgot what it's like. But, the bright side is so good! We fuck all the time, because we don't have to get up and go home to change for work. I love that part!"

"Just remember why you're together," Dave opined. "Love did it. Don't sweat the small stuff. There'll be stuff that'll drive you crazy about him or things he does. Put them in perspective, and ask yourself, 'Is it really a show-stopper?'"

"And you'll be just as guilty as Randy," I added. "I'm sure you have habits that'll push all his buttons. You've been single long enough to accumulate a few of those!" I laughed.

"But, most importantly, you have to remember you're not gonna change him into some fantasy man. What you see is what you get," Dave finished.

"Well, you can fuss with the edges, but what he is ain't gonna change at this stage of his life," I emphasized. "Communication is the key, but you already know that."

"All good advice," Jason smiled. "I'll have to have this kinda talk with him, too."

"So, what's on special today?" Dave asked.

"Let's see," Jason said thoughtfully. "You don't like the reds, so how about some champagnes. I have a couple of domestics that are truly wonderful. Besides, the warehouse is trying to clear out last years crush for the impending, new bottling. And they're cheap!"

"Define cheap," Dave laughed.

"Under $10 a bottle."

"And they're good?"

"I think they compare very well with the $20 and $30 bottles," Jason insisted. "I have a Korbel Blanc de Noir for $9.99, and the Korbel Brut or Extra Dry are a steal at $8.99. All of my Domaine Ste. Michelle's are at $6.99."

"How about one of each?" I suggested. "I want to try them before I decide which ones to get more of."

"That would be, uh, seven bottles," Jason calculated. "Three Korbel's and four Ste. Michelle's. Want to round out a case and get 10% more off?"

"Yeah," Dave agreed. "You know how much we like that Chandon Reserve. Add five bottles of that."

"That's great stuff," Jason smiled. "That's still priced at $19.99 a bottle. So with the 10% discount, you'll get it for $18 a bottle. That's a steal! Time for a party?"

"We're thinking of one sometime this month," Dave revealed. "But, we're waiting on some out-of-town guests to firm up their travel plans."

"New friends or old ones?" Jason inquired with a leering grin.

"New ones," Dave smiled back.

"Porno stars, so you wouldn't be interested," I added.

"Like Hell!" Jason laughed. "Which one or ones?"

"Morgan Rice from Hercules Productions," I said. "You know his stuff?"

"Shit, YEAH! He's one of my favorites of the new crop. What a stud!"

"Well, you'll get to meet him, but he's up here looking for a husband, and you're already married. You don't qualify," Dave laughed.

"Randy who?" Jason laughed back. "For that side of beef, I'd tell Randy to close his eyes for a while."

"Morgan's looking for a partner, not a roll in the hay," I reminded him. "He can get a hot fuck there, anytime."

"Party pooper," Jason sighed.

Dinner at the coaches was very laid back. They'd had the good manners to add invitations for the four new players they thought Morgan might like to play with.

Sunday morning, we hit the gym for "chest" day. After a light lunch, we attended the Baroque Orchestra season opener. Before the concert began, the president of the organization announced that this year, they were not solvent, and the season would have to be shortened, due to lack of funds. Grants to the Orchestra were drying up. The subscriber base was adequate to fund only half the cost of operations and performances. They were desperate for more funds. "Please, be generous," he begged.

"You know, Dave," I whispered. "We've made a lot of money in the market this year. Why not let the Baroque Orchestra have some of that profit, instead of Uncle Sam?"

"What figure did you have in mind?"

"Well, he said they were short about $100,000. Why don't we make it like the challenge grants that Public Radio does? We'll put that amount up, if the rest of the subscribers will match it," I suggested. "That'll give them a cushion to take into the next year. Lord knows we'll have to sell some of our holdings just to pay taxes, anyway. Why not send some of it in their direction?"

"Anonymously?"

"Yep."

"But, we'll give them the $100,000 whether or not they match it?"

"Sure, why not? They can still use the money."

At intermission, we collared the president. "A moment of your time, please," Dave whispered. The president of the Baroque Orchestra board didn't know us from perfect strangers, but he graciously excused himself from the conversation he was having with other concertgoers. We walked to a corner of the entrance hall for privacy.

"How may I help you?" he asked with a warm smile.

"Uh, we understand the Orchestra could use some cash," Dave began. The president nodded sadly. "Could you use an anonymous donation of $100,000?" The president blustered and sputtered at our generous offer.

"Yes! Of course! What are your terms?" he asked warily.

"No terms, just an outright gift to the Orchestra. But, it MUST remain anonymous," I added. "You could announce it as a matching grant like they do on PBS during their 'beg-a-thons'," I suggested with a hint of a smile. He grinned back, understanding my reference. "If the season ticket holders come through, you'll have funds that you can carry forward into next season."

"That's very generous," he grinned broadly. "And a good suggestion, too. I'll ask Monica to announce it before the second half of the concert today." Monica is the featured violinist and Artistic Direction for the Baroque Orchestra. "But, I don't even know your names!" he exclaimed. After introductions, he asked, "Can you meet with the Board, so they can thank you, too?"

"Better that we not do that. This is to be an anonymous gift. The more people who know us, the more likely our identities will be revealed," Dave cautioned.

"I know this comes as a big risk to you and the Orchestra, to announce such a large gift from two strangers," I smiled. "Call our banker here in town or our attorney in Las Vegas at these numbers," I added, scribbling down the phone numbers for Ed Howard at the bank and John Wells in Las Vegas on the back of my business card. (Dave had retrieved the numbers from his handy PDA.) "They can verify that we're good for the money."

The president bustled away to make the calls and to whisper their good fortune in the ears of Monica and a few board members on his way outside. (He thought the phone calls should be private, too.) When the chimes sounded, giving us a five-minute warning to resume our seats for the second half of the concert, the president strode through the outside doors, beaming. A thumbs-up to a few acquaintances and a hurried conversation with Monica on the announcement, delayed the remainder of the concert for two additional minutes.

The musicians and Monica walked on to the stage to polite applause. Not immediately taking up her instrument, the audience knew she would be making an announcement. "I have two items to chat with you about before we resume the concert," she smiled. "First, I'm sure you expect changes to the printed program." The audience laughed. That was a standing joke with this Orchestra. They always changed the order of the pieces right up to the last minute. "We'll be switching the Scarlatti and the Bach pieces." The audience stirred, examining their programs to see how that would change the printed program. "But, more importantly," she continued, "one of you has graciously stepped up and offered us a magnificent challenge. This anonymous party has agreed to underwrite YOUR Baroque Orchestra for up to $100,000, IF you'll match it."

The Orchestra standing behind her was stunned, then, smiled giddily. Spontaneous, sustained applause broke out across the auditorium. "I wonder who it was?" a matron behind us wondered. We smiled, but joined in the applause.

"If you match that donation, you'll put me to work," Monica laughed. "I'll have to create a program for the additional concert this year."

"And change it!" a wag shouted from the front rows. Everyone laughed with the orchestra.

The musicians had a lot of fun with the pieces Monica had selected for the remainder of the concert. Everyone attending had a good time as well. We just hoped that, in an era of skidding values in the stock market, there were still some generous folks who loved their Baroque Orchestra enough to help match our gift.

We heard back from Morgan on Monday, after we'd returned from the gym. He'd selected the weekend of the 26th. He'd fly up on Friday afternoon and return Monday afternoon. Dave responded to the e-mail, asking for the flight arrival time, so we could pick him up at the airport. Within another 30 minutes, he responded, letting us know he'd be on the four o'clock, afternoon flight from San Francisco on Friday, the 26th, and would return on the 2:15 flight on Monday afternoon, the 29th.

"So, who do we invite?" I asked Dave.

"Let's go through our 'trick' list and see who might still be single," he smiled. He consulted his PDA, again. "You write them down with their phone numbers as I go through the list."

"Okay." I grabbed a tablet of scratch paper and put Larry at the top, just in case Dave forgot him.

"Larry," he said, glancing up at me, "Esteban, uh, is he single?"

"Last time I checked, he was."

"How about Paulo from the restaurant?"

"I haven't talked to him in months. It wouldn't hurt to call him," I said. I put a checkmark by his name to call him and find out. Dave gave me the phone number, which I dutifully scribbled down next to Paulo's name.

"We could invite Ron from the football team, but he's such a bottom. I don't think that's husband material for Morgan," Dave sighed. "Same problem with James, and Big John and Little John are an item, now, right?" I nodded my confirmation. "Mark's a bottom, too," he mused. "Hey, what about Steve's sons, Jim and Jeff. They might be a little young for Morgan, but they're single and SO hunky!"

"Uh, they're both bottoms," I cautioned.

"Fuck! You're right," he sighed again. "We could try for Jim's bodybuilding friend, Eric. He's pretty versatile."

"I'll add him."

"Beau and Ben are still fucking like rabbits?"

"Yep."

"Well, how about Scott, our real estate agent and Dr. Hartung? They're both single, aren't they?" Dave smiled cautiously.

"I'll call and ask."

"Let's see, uh, Sean, that redheaded mover with the big dick?"

"Added," I smiled scribbling fast.

"Poindexter is too far away. So's Preston."

"Poindexter?"

"Lt. Garvey in Vancouver, BC."

"Oh, yeah. And Preston's too far away, too."

"Jack and Jeremy still fucking?"

"I haven't heard a word from them. I'll call them, too. But, they're probably still fucking," I grinned.

"Markus and Julio are too far away and too married. Same married problem with Darren and Jerrod," Dave said exasperated. "We seem to know only married couples."

"And mostly our fault, if you'll notice," I grinned over at him. "We introduced most of them to each other."

"Yeah, we did, didn't we!"

"How about those four new guys on the team that the coaches invited to dinner Friday?" Dave asked excitedly.

"I don't know their preferences for top or bottom, except for the big Samoan who's versatile; but, why not!" I agreed.

We made the phone calls. All the single men agreed to come to our party to meet Morgan and other single, gay men. We couldn't reach Esteban (his "phone was disconnected or no longer in service"), so he got crossed off our list. Jeremy and Jack were still a couple. Robert and Gary said that Beau and Ben were still a couple, too. Sean was leaving town that weekend, so he couldn't make it, either. That left us with only Larry, Paulo, Eric, Scott, and Grant to entertain Morgan. We'd invited the four football players, but they had to be home, in bed, no later than 11 p.m. for bed check. At least, that weekend was a home game. With the party starting at 7:30, that should give them adequate time to get "acquainted." So, the count was nine men (plus us) for Morgan's entertainment. That should keep him busy!

We spent most of the weekend before Morgan's party with "Daddy and his boy." They had a great time, although they were only here for two days. I think Daddy got fucked nearly as much as Boy did. Of course, Kurt and Gene took a turn; Donnie and Trevor did them at the gym; Robert and Gary pumped their butts (and got fucked by Daddy, too) after dinner on Saturday evening (spending the night with them). We were first and last, banging both of them on Saturday morning upon their arrival, and again Sunday evening just before they left. Daddy did have a very thick dick, but it sure felt good to us as it rubbed across our prostates. Having Boy sitting on our dicks while Daddy pounded our butts did assist in getting our nuts to spray fast.

Boy had a nice dick, but he was a confirmed bottom, having no interest in anyone's ass, except to munch, lick, sniff, and chew on it. And true to his word, he was able to take on everyone, orally and anally. He seemed to have no problem even with Kurt's monster. Evidently, he and Daddy had a lot of big-dicked friends in San Francisco who visited them often.

The following weekend, Morgan arrived. His flight was on time, too. Striding through the double doors to the baggage area of the airport, he turned many heads. Men and women turned to look at his handsome face and beautiful body. He wore a muscle shirt, exposing his bulging shoulders and huge arms. His pants fit like a glove, emphasizing his round, muscle ass, heavy quads, and bulging package. Several turned and looked at his ass and back as he passed them.

I was standing at curbside, so he could see that someone would pick him up as promised. Dave had taken the loop around the airport again, as he couldn't park there. Morgan rushed through the doors, parting the ocean of humanity like Moses and the Red Sea. He took me in his big arms and lifted me off the concrete sidewalk, spinning us around as he hugged and kissed me. I grinned when I saw several women turn disgustedly away, some mouthing "Shit!" when they saw us hugging. "Another stunningly beautiful, muscleman turns out gay," I could see them think. A few men smiled and sighed, wondering what it would be like to be in his arms. I could have told them how great it was, but that would have only made them cranky.

After a moment in his bone-crushing arms, he released me. "You look better than I remembered," he beamed. "Where's that black Adonis you live with?"

"He's bringing the car around. He couldn't park here." A hunky, young man stared at us, smiling. "I think that's a fan of yours," I indicated nodding in the young stud's direction.

Morgan looked over his shoulder and spied the nearly trembling man. "You're Morgan Rice, right?" the stranger stammered.

"Guilty!" Morgan grinned back.

"This is SO making my day!" he burst out, giggling. "Could I have your autograph?" he asked, struggling to find something in his backpack to write on and with.

"Be glad to," Morgan replied. "I could sign your pretty ass, but it would get washed off." The guy blushed furiously. Morgan was doing a great job of perpetuating his top persona.

Dave had just pulled up and honked to get our attention. "Let me get paper and pen from the car," I suggested. They waited while I asked Dave to find a pen and some paper in the glove box. I scurried back with the proper items, noting that the two men had continued their conversation.

Morgan took the proffered pen and paper and scribbled his signature. The young man smiled, then, wrote something at the bottom of the paper, ripping that portion off and handing it back to Morgan. He gave the young man a pat on the ass and walked to the car with me. "Receipt?" I grinned.

"Address, name, and phone number," Morgan smiled, looking at the paper again before stuffing it in his tight jeans.

"He lives here or visiting?" I asked.

"Lives here," Morgan replied, tossing his overnight bag in the trunk of the Lexus. "He just flew in on the same flight, but he got on in Los Angeles. I told him that my public persona doesn't mesh with reality. He knew instantly what I meant, and said that he looked forward to fuckin' my ass for me." Morgan got in the backseat and turned to Dave, "Nice wheels, Dave. You must be doin' alright!"

"Yes, we're doing fine, thanks," Dave responded, turning around for a kiss that Morgan was leaning into. "This is really Mike's car, but he let's me drive it."

"Like when I can pry the keys out of his hands," I laughed.

"So, what's the schedule for the weekend? I hope it involves a lot of me on my back and both of you atop me. One at a time, of course," he snickered.

"We have a party in your honor planned for this evening starting at 7:30," Dave said. "Only single, gay men have been invited. Mike and I are the exceptions. Four newly minted, professional football players, Mike's cousin, and other 'friends' for a total of nine men for you to choose from."

"Oh, yeah, and thanks for sending me their pictures in your last e-mail," Morgan said. "That'll help them not be total strangers in a room of mostly strangers."

"The rest of the weekend is open for you to do as you please, including going through the entire guest list, or working over that little number you just met," I added.

"I like the way you think," Morgan laughed. "But, I need to spend some quality time with my hosts, too."

"You've already had us," Dave reminded him.

"And it was all quality!" Morgan exulted. "And I want MORE!"

And he got more. Dave mounted him doggie style, while Morgan and I 69'ed. Then, Dave and I switched. Morgan finally shot his load while he was returning the favor, with Dave sitting on Morgan's thick 8" dick and I was sitting on Morgan's face.

By the time we got cleaned up, it was 6:00 p.m. We fixed a fast dinner, iced the beer and champagne, and prepared some easy finger-food. Morgan changed into one of his beefy tank tops, adding frayed shorts to complete the trashy tramp look. With his good looks and incredible body, he could have worn anything and looked great.

The football players arrived in two cars, with apologies for having to leave early. Morgan was just getting their names when Cousin Larry and Paulo arrived separately. Shortly, Eric the bodybuilder, Scott the real estate agent, and Dr. Grant Hartung arrived. Eric and Morgan hit it off instantly, checking out each other's muscles. But, within a few minutes, that cooled and the football players became Eric's focus, especially the big Samoan. Dave became aware of the attraction between Morgan and Larry by 9:00. The other men had paired off with other members of the football team. By 10:30, all the football players were gone with their fuck of the evening. I was surprised that Scott and Dr. Hartung went home with somebody, as that wasn't their style. But, lust is blind!

Morgan and Larry went upstairs to Morgan's "bedroom" (although we'd planned on Morgan sleeping with us), leaving us, the old maids, to clean up and turn out the lights. We were in bed by 11:30.

"I guess it all turned out alright," Dave murmured when I turned out the table lamp on my side of the bed. "Everyone seemed to have a good time, and went home with a 'door prize'," he giggled. "Of course, any one of those football players could have kept our bed warm."

"There's an 'Amen' in this corner," I smiled in the dark. "They sure opened up, being away from the coaches. They're all nice guys, but I still don't know what their preferences are."

"Well, I'm guessing that two of them are bottoms, as Scott and Dr. Hartung are tops," Dave considered. "Eric's headed home with that versatile Samoan. I remember how much Eric loves to be fucked, but he has a nice dick and the skills to be a great top. Paulo's a hunk and is pretty versatile, so who knows what he got."

"Cousin Larry knows how to top, but he's a bottom for sure. I'll bet Morgan has to fuck his brains out most of the night. Larry's really caught up in Morgan's video image," I concluded. "But, I know Morgan won't let Larry's monster dick rest until he's had at least one ride on it."

Silence flowed around the room. When I whispered Dave's name, I got no response. Well, time for me to got to sleep, too.

I yelled up the stairwell at eight the next morning, informing our houseguests that breakfast would be ready in another 15 minutes. Hearing them stir and the upstairs shower turn on, I assumed they'd be down soon. I didn't figure on a last-minute fuck in the shower before breakfast. Dave and I were nearly finished with our breakfasts when they finally appeared. We traded off preparing more food and keeping them in conversation. Larry left about ten, with a meaningful grope and a kiss for Morgan. We got a chaste kiss and a pat on the ass.

"How come Larry's not with someone?" Morgan wondered. "He has a lot to offer a man."

"He does," I agreed. "But, not to be talking out of turn, Larry's always looking beyond what he has today for what he thinks he might get tomorrow."

"He's a player," Morgan concluded ruefully.

"In a word, yes," Dave agreed.

"I know the type," Morgan sighed. "Great in the sack for a few times, then, they're on to the next conquest. San Francisco's full of 'em. And, why not? They usually can get someone new each week."

"So, you wanna try that guy from the airport, or work on one or more of our other guests from last night?" I asked.

"Everyone seemed to be paired up last night. I don't wanna break in on that. I'll try for the guy from the airport," he answered.

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