This is a work of gay erotic fiction. It contains graphic descriptions of sex between adult consenting males. Do not read it if such scenes are offensive to you, if they are illegal where you are, or if you are underage in your jurisdiction. None of these events or characters are real.
Your encouraging comments are greatly appreciated.
CLOSETS
CHAPTER EIGHT
REQUIEM
My head woke up before my eyes did. I groaned, remembering instantly both why I had the pain and why I deserved it. I struggled to sit up.
I was occupying half of the bed in my room, and Calvin and Lonnie were a tangle of naked limbs and stiff dicks in the other half. I dragged my carcass into the bathroom where I heaved as quietly as I could into the toilet. Either my groaning or my retching woke the guys, and they came to check on me. I don't know who was more repentant, me or Lonnie, who seemed to claim all responsibility for my over-indulgence by virtue of having brought me the drinks. I would have none of it, though-he had not held me down and forced them down my throat. Although none of us said anything about Bryce, I had the feeling that we did not need to. My friends had somehow sensed my now- dashed hopes concerning him. They almost seemed as concerned as I was.
Calvin plied me with Alka-Seltser and got me into the shower. I sent him back to bed while I tried to revitalize myself under the warm spray. After a good soaking and a shave, I did soon begin to feel less awful. I emerged into the bedroom to find Calvin rather spectacularly fucking Lonnie as he lay, ass-up, on the bed. The stud was hurling himself into his task with energy and abandon. I lay back onto my side of the bed and watched with interest. Calvin's butt muscles were a sight to see, so firm and rounded. His long brown dick came and went from Lonnie's backside like a piston. His thigh and back muscles strained with the effort of his coupling. It was magnificent. Lonnie, on the other hand, was not exactly passive. His lean musculature rippled underneath smooth skin like that of a superbly conditioned panther. Both men glowed with the sweat of insistent sex. As Calvin cried out in the passion of his ejaculation into the rubber in Lonnie's bowel, Lonnie answered with an ecstatic shout of his own, shooting his seed onto my sheets. Calvin collapsed onto Lonnie's back and they lay, spent, their morning erections put to rest for the moment.
Lonnie lay his hand on my arm. "Sorry about the sheets, muffins. I guess it's laundry day today."
"I'm sure there are others around here somewhere."
"As much as I do love fucking your sweet ass, you handsome devil, I must admit that there is nothing in this world quite so pleasurable as having my wild stallion cousin here pound me with that amazing cock of his. I guess I'm just a slut bottom at heart."
Calvin grunted acknowledgment of the compliment.
I suddenly remembered that I had never gotten around to giving Lonnie the long, hard fucking that I had promised him the day before. Perhaps it was just as well. Calvin seemed to be very much on top of things with Lonnie.
While I got my funeral wear together, they showered together. We changed the sheets and tidied up a bit, then they went off to prepare for the day's responsibilities. None of us had had any stomach for breakfast.
That morning was the longest time I'd had in the house alone since I arrived. I took a leisurely shower, read the paper, and generally putzed around before dressing. In passing through the gallery again, I had an idea for adding my own imprint to the funeral. I went through the house and selected a dozen good photographs of Grand-daddy and those who mattered to him. I had him with his parents, with Grandmother, as a family, one with me. I also included one of Grand-daddy and Peter, one of him and Grandmother with Ruth Ann and, feeling daring, one of Dad and Dalton. I made an arrangement of them atop the Steinway in the living room for the guests to peruse.
Ruth Ann and Otis arrived while I was dressing, and Calvin appeared shortly after, all looking appropriately funereal in pressed black suits and shiny shoes. Ruth Ann's catering relations descended en masse, barbeque pit in tow, to prepare for the reception. No sign of Lonnie, though, and I began to get concerned about him. His Impala suddenly swerved into the driveway just as we were about to get into the limo and leave without him. He emerged carefully, as if afraid any bend would leave a wrinkle- and he was resplendent in a brand-new, fashionable black suit and tie, shoes gleaming. But what dropped my jaw was his hair. The pony-tail was gone, and in its place a very stylish but business-like cut. He looked at us apprehensively. I hardly knew whether it was safer to comment or say nothing.
Ruth Ann settled the matter for us. She strode up to Lonnie and gave him a motherly kiss on the cheek, and said, "My goodness, child, you do clean up handsome!" Calvin grinned at him.
"I thought it was time," he offered.
"I like it," I agreed.
As funerals go, Grand-daddy's was a pretty good one. Dr. Ford hit the right note of balance between sorrow and thanksgiving, and maintained a welcome dignity throughout. He invited all of the three hundred people present to the house afterward.
And most of them came. Again, I felt like a candidate for some public office, pressing the flesh and trying very hard to be friendly, tactful, and hospitable to scores of people I'd never seen in my life, along with some I'd seen naked and fucking like bunnies with other men just the night before. I was surprised how many of that latter group were here with wives today.
Of course, the DuPrees were present. Peter thanked me for including them in my selection of photographs. I could tell he was actually touched. Dalton said little, but gave me a long handshake and a meaningful look. Bryce seemed as poised and courteous as ever, but there was a slight hesitancy, a certain pulling back, in his manner, I thought. I tried not to let my chagrin show, but feared it did.
After a couple of hours of non-stop campaigning, I noticed Bryce alone over by the piano, quietly looking at the photographs displayed there. He and I were even in one or two of them. I joined him casually, and we stood silently together for a moment. Then I spoke.
"Look, Bryce, I feel like every time you see me, I'm behaving abominably. I feel so bad about it."
"You're not behaving abominably now," he smiled his "devil or angel" smile. "Nor all day, for that matter. I think you are quite the sensation in town, as a matter of fact. You should hear the old ladies talk about you, how handsome and well mannered you are-for a Yankee-and how proud J. P. would be of you. And what a great catch you'll make for some pretty girl."
I could imagine that last part all too well. "I hate to think that every time you look at me, you see this drunken slut."
"Oh, I don't see that at all, Jamie."
"No? What then?"
"Well...a lot of things, but not that. For one thing, I see some of myself, to tell you the truth. Don't you think I've ever had a few too many, Jamie? And about the sex part, remember, when you were laid out naked on that pool table the other night, I was laid out just as naked on the one next to you. I can make a spectacle of myself from time to time, too. You have an exuberance for life, Jamie. I would never want you to lose that." His hand rested on my arm as he said this last, and he looked at me intently.
Just then, a couple strolled up close enough to spoil too personal a conversation between us, and Lonnie also passed several feet away.
"He looks good, doesn't he?" continued Bryce, nodding in his direction. "I'm amazed at the effect you've had on him in such a short time. Calvin, too, for that matter. It's as if they've both grown up and come into their own over-night. But Lonnie-who knew he had that mature and responsible guy living in there."
At the moment, I was puzzled as to where this was going. I just nodded, and that gave Bryce the opening to say more.
"You know, we ought to go out to the lake property while I'm in town. Papaw says he'll deed it to us if we want. I think he wants some assurance as to how we'll work out the use of it first, though. Are you free in the next day or so, and interested in checking it out?"
I jumped right on that offer, trying not to sound frighteningly eager. "Well, yeah, I'm free tomorrow. Really, after today, there's nothing set for me. Whenever you like."
"And you can ask Lonnie along if you want to."
Now, I really was confused. I was thinking I was getting a date with Bryce, and now he was dragging Lonnie into it. "No, just us is fine," I stammered.
"Tomorrow, then. Nine? I've got my Jeep, I'll come around for you."
I nodded. A couple of old ladies edged in to break the startling news to me that I looked just like my father. Bryce winced sympathetically and excused himself.
It was an hour later that I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks on the way to the kitchen with a handful of plates and cups as a thought congealed in my mind.
Holy shit! I wonder if he thinks that I've got a thing for Lonnie!
Scenes flashed through my brain. Almost every time Bryce had seen me this week, Lonnie had his dick in me from one direction or another. Even at the club, it was Lonnie I seemed to be with. What else was the poor bloke to think?
If this was true, it was terrific news! Now, all I had to do was find some way to let Bryce know that the guy I was falling for and the guy I was fucking were, inexplicably and stupidly, two different dudes. And I would have him alone all day tomorrow to work on it!
As I stood at the doorway bidding farewell to the dozens of guests streaming out of the house, I was more genuine in my appreciation and goodwill than I had been all day. I had a new spirit of hopefulness about me.
Tomorrow could hardly come soon enough.