Four Becomes Two

Four Becomes Two Pt. 22 [part 22 of 22] By: Jay Love

(Jaylovenj@comcast.net)

Four Becomes Two

Dear Readers:

I am sorry it has taken so long to post this chapter. It was written (and then re-written due to a system crash). Of course, Murphy's Law would have it that I misplaced the backup disc that I had, so this chapter had to come from scratch. It's not the way it was originally written. Actually, I think it's better.

Also, there were some health problems that had me in the hospital for a while. I am doing much better now, thank you, and have once again been able to get back to the story.

I want to thank all of you who have encouraged me thus far, and I hope that you continue to find some enjoyment in the story.

Many of you have requested a "bio" from me, and that will be posted with the last chapter. So keep reading. LOL

As always, I want to remind you that even though Dave and Greg are not practicing safety in their sexual escapades, remember you must. We're dealing with some serious stuff out there, and if, God forbid, the world will lose some of its brightness and glitter without you.

This part is for all you guys and gals who are too young to be reading this material. LEAVE NOW! (Yeah, like what am I going to do if you don't)? If you find this subject objectionable, LEAVE NOW! And remember, this story is a creation of my overworked imagination and belongs to me. If you'd like to reproduce this in any form, please contact the author (me) for permission.

Also, any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a compliment and should be taken as such.

Thank you,

Jay

As always, this author craves feedback. Criticism only makes me a better writer. Please respond to Jaylovenj@comcast.net. I look forward to hearing from you.

Four Become Two: Chapter 22

The salty air and the gentle breeze were my wake-up call the next morning as sleep gradually left my body. I reached out, eyes still closed, seeking the heat and masculinity of my beloved Greg.

Becoming fully awake, I look around the suite hoping to see him. I suddenly spy his silhouette against the sheer curtains covering the balcony doors. I can't believe he's standing on the balcony-nude!

My morning hard on throbs urgently, now that it knows I am among the living, and I scamper to the bathroom. Relieving myself, I take a moment to rid my mouth of morning breath, and then head out to find my love.

Instead of bursting onto the scene, I stop, just taking in his beauty. His body is a work of art-tall, lean, with just enough definition to not be grotesque. He is covered in baby soft down that I can see is being gently ruffled by a passing breeze.

His thighs and legs are like granite; I know because, I'm happy to say, they have held me securely in his grasp on more than one occasion.

He's all man-my man, I think, gazing at the ring on my finger. And I'm the luckiest man in the world to have him for my own.

"A penny for your thoughts," I growl, the huskiness in my voice surprising even me as I slip my arm from behind around his waist and draw him to me.

"Umm, good morning baby," he says. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept better than well. You were terrific last night."

"You were at the top of your game, too, I might add. It gets better all the time. You are a marvelous lover."

"It takes two, but thank you. I personally feel I am a little out of practice. Want to help me work on my technique a little more?"

"Is what I feel what I think I feel?" he chuckles, pushing his ass against me. "After last night, you want more?"

"That's what you do to me. You leave me revved up and raring' to go." My fingers flow through the hair on his thighs as I grip him tighter to me. Greg lets a moan escape from his throat.

"You want me just as much as I want you," I tease.

"I do not," he quickly answers. He moans again as I encircle his dick with my left hand, while pinching his left nipple with my right.

"Liar!" I continue. "If you didn't want me, you'd be struggling to get away, and your dick wouldn't be this hard," I say, giving it a squeeze.

"What self-respecting man.oh.wouldn't.be hard under these circumstances? Oh fuck!" Greg pants.

"Want to continue this-discussion-inside? I am in desperate need," I gulp, "of a taste of Greg."

"Sounds delicious. But I have Dave on my menu," he says, turning to face me.

"Whatever you want to eat." The words are cut off as Greg seals his lips to mine. As usual, he tasted of fresh peppermint and Greg, a flavor I found highly intoxicating.

His soft lips closed in on mine with a passion and urgency demonstrated in our first coupling. It's amazing that we didn't fall and break our necks as we made our way, kissing and groping and feeling each other, on our way to the bed.

I pull him close, feeling the hairs on his body excite me even more. The brashness of it against my nipples constantly stimulating them and every nerve ending that they touch. A symphony of moans had to have been heard by anyone passing our room at that moment.

I lift Greg into my arms, cradling him, nuzzling my lips in the crease of his neck. His skin taste so sweet as I suck and lick at the flesh there. I gently lower him to the bed, my eyes drinking in the site of him.

"You are so beautiful," I whisper. "I can't believe you're here with me."

Greg offers his hand to me, the one with the symbol of our love, and I climb aboard the bed to his waiting arms. I feel his powerful arms wrap around me, making me feel safe and secure.

"I want you," Greg says. His body expresses his words as I feel his sex pulsate against my hip. He lifts his right leg, and somehow manages to capture my dick between his thighs. It nestles beneath his big balls, and is enveloped by the heat of his body. I can't stop the moan of pleasure that escapes from me.

"God! You are enormous!" Greg exclaims as I begin and involuntary thrusting motion. "You know, if I hadn't been drunk with lust the first time you put this thing in me, I might never have believed it could be done, and I would have missed out on so much pleasure. It's time for pleasure."

He opens his legs, releasing me. A chill sweeps over me as my wet cock is exposed to the air temperature. I begin to kiss down his body, stopping at one of my favorite chew toys, his nipples. They rise to the occasion, getting harder, stiffer, swelling, reaching for my lips as my tongue bathes them in sweet moisture.

Greg's fingers entwine themselves in my hair, holding me close to his body. After paying homage to the nubs, I move down his body, tasting each inch of flesh as I go. Greg begins to urge me towards his throbbing dick, a towering volcano whose cone is erupting with flowing magma.

I lift my head, and in one fell swoop, plunge onto that obelisk. "Yes! Yes!" Greg urges as I moan from the sweet flavor exciting my taste buds. He thrusts, burying himself deep into me.

My fingers seek out the huge sack that contains his sperm factories, and I can feel them churning inside, producing more nectar. The scent of him reaches my nostrils, raising me to a new height of passion as I begin to suck, lick, and tease more of the fluid into my mouth.

I clean every drop he has produced, and even manage to get part of the next flow as the tip of my tongue worms its way between the folds of his large piss slit. Greg's hips, which had been gently rocking, now thrust himself deep into my throat. I can feel him begin to swell.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum," he warns, and I renew my efforts, bobbing my head faster and faster, sucking harder. His thrusts become more powerful as he rockets towards the clouds. I catch sight of his pucker, opening and closing, enticing me to give it some attention.

Greg reaches for my dick, his hot hand grasping it, pulling on it. I realize that I have to move, or I'm going to lose it, so I gently, but firmly remove me from his clutches.

Greg explodes in my mouth, and I find myself drinking his honey. I pull him out of my throat so that the head is laying in my mouth, allowing me to taste him. I love the taste of Greg's cum, so rich and creamy and sweet. And I love the way he cums. He pulsates in rich flows that give the receiver time to savor each deposit.

As he begins to trickle to a steady stream, I gather it in my mouth. I drop his still swollen, red stalk onto his stomach, lifting his legs. My mind remembers a tight, hot hole that had been winking at me.

I waste no time attacking that round tunnel, depositing his own sperm around the opening, using it as a lube.

"Oh fuck! Oh damn!" Greg moans, as he pulls his legs tighter to his chest, offering himself to me. I taste him, again feeling my taste buds come alive as I dive in like a starving man, chewing, licking; get his own ass juice all over my face. Greg is moaning, clutching the bed tightly in his fist as my beard scrapes across the sensitive flesh.

"Fuck me, baby. Fuck me NOW!" he growls.

I lift his legs, placing them on my shoulders, and reach for the lube. I put a liberal amount on me, and then heavily apply a coating to Greg. His ass clutches hungrily at my probing fingers as I slide them inside.

"GET-YOUR-DICK-IN-ME!" he orders.

I move in tighter, sweat of anticipation breaking across my brow. I slide the wet head of my dick along the channel of his ass, bringing moans of expectation from both of us.

I stop over his hole. Because of my size, I allow him to initiate penetration. Greg wastes no time in doing so. I feel him opening up, and his hole vacuuming me inside.

Volts of electricity shoot up my spine as his hungry hole envelopes my head. Greg pauses, giving himself the opportunity to adjust to the breach. It's with great difficulty that I refrain from thrusting into him.

"Oh, yes!" he moans moments later. "Get to moving." Greg can be very demonstrative when he wants to be. I begin to gently thrust, feeling the soft walls of his ass surround me, a hot poker slicing through melting butter.

We develop a rhythm, meeting each other. Our breathing changes as our passion enflames. Greg reaches up, and begins to tug and pull on my nipples, teasing them until they are standing fully erect like little dicks looking for a hot, moist hole to enter.

I push his legs further back, his legs wrapping around my waist and his arms circling my back. I hook my arms under his pits, putting my weight on my knees and elbows, and our lips home in on each other.

"Oh Greg, this is so good," I tell him as I continue to thrust back and forth. He's clinging to me, as if his life depends upon it. His legs are wrapped tightly around my waist, and he's meeting my every inward thrust with an upward thrust of his own.

I change my movements, doing circular motions, striking his prostate on every turn. Greg's dick is hard between us. I can feel it sliding along the hairy surface of our bodies.

"Yes baby, make love to me. You are the best lover. You fill me so completely," he tells me.

He squeezes his ass, trapping me inside and causing me to moan. "Oh, you like that, don't you? You think you can send me over the edge, and I not retaliate?" he asks, bucking his hips and squeezing his ass again.

"I'm going to make you love this ass as much as I love this dick. You do love this ass, don't you?" Again, he squeezes.

"Oh, so you want to play a little game, huh? Yeah, I know you love this dick, and yeah, I really love this ass. This ass belongs to me, and nobody else will ever make it hum the way I do. No one will ever fill you like me," I say, rising up on my haunches. I grab his hips, and begin to really pound his ass. His dick begins to flop up and down on his stomach, secreting love juice as it bounces.

I look up at Greg, his eyes meeting mine. There is such a look of determination in his eyes as he begins to roll his hip, squeezing his muscle

"Feed me," he moans. "Feed me that cock! Yeah, that's it! That's the way," he encourages.

Sweat has covered our bodies and steam seems to be rising from our bodies.

"You wanna fuck, don't ya? You want me to scratch that itch in your ass, don't ya?"

"Yeah. Are you man enough?" he counters.

I pull my dick from his ass, and flip him over on his stomach. I pull him so that he is on his knees, and re-enter. I begin to slam into his ass as he reaches for the headboard. I plow that ass, and he meets every thrust.

"I'm going to cum, motherfucker!"

"I'm not fucking a mother, I'm fucking you. And I'm there too. Cum, you bastard, cum!"

Our hips meet in one powerful thrust, and I began to cum. I reach around, and grab his cock, squeezing for dear life as I give it a final pull. I could feel Greg quake in my arms as I gather him close, depositing my seed deep inside of him.

He pours his essence out, spraying the headboard, the wall, his chest, and covering my hand. My weight causes me to collapse atop him, and we both tumble to the bed, riding the crest of our orgasm.

I feel his heart pounding in his chest as I clutch him to me as if he were a lifesaver thrown to a drowning man. Each throb echoes the throbbing in my chest, putting us in perfect synchronization.

"I love you, Greg," I whisper in his ear, as I snuggle close. I am still buried deep in him, the pulsing of my dick not wanting to subside.

"God, if I didn't love you, I love you now. You are a master with this thing," he says, giving my dick a squeeze. I slowly begin to slide from him, feeling the flood of my love escape as I slid free.

"If I were a woman, I'd probably would have gotten pregnant today," Greg teased. "Surely, you would have shaken a few eggs loose," he chuckles.

"Well, I think someone challenged my masculinity," I say, "so I had to show them what a real man can do."

"Oh, you're definitely all man," he says, turning in my arms and palming my dick.

"Come on," I say, "I do believe that we need to shower. Seems that that someone that I was talking about earlier has made me a sticky, sweaty, and funky."

Instead of a shower, we climb into the spacious tub where Greg takes the time to gently wash my hair. By the time he had rinsed, he had brought me off again. There is something so erotic about a man's hands massaging your head, upper and lower.

We go down to the dining room for breakfast. They have a buffet, but we decided to order. We had just taken the first sip of coffee when a rather handsome man sidled up to the table.

"Excuse me, but aren't you Gregory Jefferson," he asks.

"Yeah.Bruce? Bruce Whitaker?

"Man, it's so good to see you. What has it been? Five? Seven years?"

"Seven," Greg answers, standing and giving him a hug.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Bruce Whitaker, may I introduce Dave Welsh."

"Nice to meet you Dave," he says, extending his hand. "So, you home to visit the folks?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Same here. Needed to get away from Boston for a while. Look, I have an appointment in a little bit. Would you like to get together for dinner? Kind of catch up on our lives? Here's my card. My cell is on there. Give me a call, and we can set something up. Gotta run. Call!" And he was gone.

"Well.who's Bruce Whitaker?" I ask, "and should I be jealous?"

"Oh, Bruce?" Greg fumbles, looking at the card. "We used to be best friends when we were growing up. He lived on the property across from us. His family is extremely wealthy. As a matter-of-fact, they own the jewelry store where you spent that ridiculously large amount of money.

He was the kid that was good at everything: academics, sports, girls.you know, the guy most likely to do everything! But, he considered me his friend, for some reason. He got me my first blowjob."

"He was a good friend, wasn't he?"

"I didn't say he gave me my first blowjob. I said he got me my first blowjob."

"So, you gonna call him?"

"You wanna have dinner with him?"

"I don't think I was invited."

"But."

"No, that's okay. You guys would have more fun alone, anyhow. You don't need me along, having to explain each memory. Go on! Have a good time. I can stay home with the children."

"You sure? I would like to see what he's been up too."

"Of course I am. Do I say anything I don't mean?"

We got to his parent's place around two. Penelope and Dean were busy enjoying the children. Dean had them down on the beach playing in the waves that lapped at the shore.

"Your father is like a new man," Penelope says, taking us by the arm. We walk into the family room that overlooks the shore. "I haven't seen him this energetic in years," she laughs.

"I hope they weren't too much trouble last night, Penelope," I ask.

"Not at all, Dave. After we got back home, we played, had dinner, took our baths, and they were asleep by 9:30."

"9:30! Mom, that's way past their bedtime."

"Baby, we're grandparents. We're suppose to break the rules. That's what we do!" she says, raising her arms. "We could be drummed out of the grandparent's union, otherwise."

"Oh, you think it's funny, huh? Just wait until we come knocking on your door in the middle of the night so they can. play," he laughs.

"So, did you two have a nice evening?"

"Very nice," Greg says, extending his left hand.

"Wow! That is some piece of jewelry you have on.you both have on! Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Penelope? I guess I need to ask for your son's hand in marriage?" I turn to Greg as I say the next words. "I love him so deeply. He's my world. I can't see a day beginning without him being in it. I want to grow old with him, sitting on a porch swing somewhere watching our grandchildren playing in the yard.

I'll never deliberately hurt him, or cause him anguish. And I promise, he'll never have want of anything."

"Greg, he's so cute!" she says, pinching my cheek.

"Mom!"

"Okay, well, I have to talk this over with Greg's father before I can give you an answer, but I'm in your corner. Do you love him, Greg?"

"This is so weird, but yeah, mom, I do. I really do. I have never felt so safe, secure, protected, and loved since I was under this roof."

"I can see you're happy, baby," she says, cradling his face. "And," she takes my hand, "I can see who makes you happy."

"How do you think Dad is going to take this?"

"Well, I don't know. I've never heard Dean say anything derogatory about people, other than obnoxious and ignorant people. And I guess bigots fall into that category. He might be a little confused, but I'm sure he'll be here for you-both of you."

Just then, the door opens, and the three of them come in. "Hi, son. Hi, Dave. I thought I saw that van of yours up here." The children run to us and we sweep them in our arms, giving them hugs and kisses.

"Were you guys good?" Greg asks Micah, who's in his arms.

"You didn't give grandma and grandpa too much trouble, did you?" I ask Robin, who's in my arms.

"They were no trouble at all," Dean interjects. "We have been having a grand old time. So, did you have a good evening?"

"I'll say they did," Penelope says. "Dean, Dave has something to ask of you."

"This is so silly. I'm." I hold my hand up to Greg requesting his silence.

"Dean, I've already spoken to Penelope. I've always been a very direct person, so I'm going to get right to the point." I take a deep breath. "Dean, I love your son, more than words can express. And I can't imagine a day without him in my life.

Last night, I asked Greg if he would commit to me, and he said yes. My world would be complete if we can do this with your blessing."

He looks at us, then at the children playing on the floor (with a number of new toys, I note). "I guess that your saying yes means that you feel this is a good idea," he asks Greg, who nods his head.

"Have you thought of the obstacles that you'll be facing? In life? In business? With your neighbors? With society, in general. Many people do not agree with your chosen lifestyle, some even to the point of violence.

Can you handle that? Can you keep yourselves, and the children, safe from those people?"

"Dean, life doesn't have any guarantees. I'm the first witness to that. But, we have an advantage. We have money. We can afford security and comfort that should let us lead normal lives. We will be happy. All we want is for you and Penelope to be happy for us."

"How do your parents feel about this?"

"We haven't told them yet, but they love Greg, and they love me. And they adore the children. My father told us before we left to just be happy, and nothing could make me-us-happier than to be united for life."

"It seems as if this has already been decided. If that's the case, you'll get no argument from me. Welcome to the family, son." He stands and embraces me. I can feel the power and love pour from him."

"Thank you, Dean. This means so much to us."

"Well.do I have to pay for the wedding, or are your parents paying for the wedding?" Dean asks, with a chuckle.

"Neither, Dad. Dave and I can afford to pay for our own ceremony and reception."

"Have you decided when and where?" Penelope asks. "The grounds are lovely here."

"Thanks, Penelope. But, we don't want to put you guys out. Besides, we would have legal trouble here in this state."

"You're going to have trouble in most states, son. The government doesn't recognize same-sex unions. It's a shame, too. I think that love should be supported under all circumstances.

When are these so-called Bible reading, scripture spouting bigots going to stop making themselves God and let God do what he wants to do. And what he wants is for all of us to learn to live together in harmony and love. How can we go to heaven with hate and judgment in our hearts? And when will we stop trying to think for God?"

"Very well put, dear," Penelope says. "So, what's up for today?" she continues, changing the subject. Dean was beginning to go off on one of his tangents.

"Well, I ran into Bruce Whitaker earlier. He's home visiting his parents. And he invited me out to dinner."

"Just you?" Penelope asks. "What about your fiancé? Are you just going to abandon him."

"Mom," I interrupt, "it's okay. Greg explained his relationship, and I'm perfectly okay with him having dinner with Bruce. The kids and I will just have dinner."

"Here. You'll have dinner here."

"Penelope, we'll be alright. It will give us a chance to play."

"Oh, I was hoping we could keep them another night. After all, you guys are leaving tomorrow, and."

"Dad. Mom. If you would like them to stay again, I guess that would be okay, if it's okay with you, Dave?"

"Sure, that's fine. I just don't want them to tire you out. We're going to be needing you for summers, Easter vacations, and such in the future. Don't want to wear out their welcome," I joke.

Penelope playfully taps me on the arm. "Another wiseass. You two are perfect together."

"Yes we are," Greg says, kissing me. I give Dean a sideways glance to see his reaction. He appears just a little uncomfortable, but he doesn't say anything. Got to give him credit, he is trying.

Greg gives Bruce a call, and they make a date for later that evening, then we have a glorious visit with Mom and Dad.

About 5:30, we head back to the hotel so that Greg can get ready for his date. "So, what are you going to do while I'm out?"

"Think I'll call room service, and have that cute bellman come up for some special dessert."

"Perv!"

"What? Didn't you think he was cute?"

"He's alright, if you like that kind of guy. He slips on a pair of dark blue slacks with a gray shirt and a dark blue tie. It plays with the color of his eyes.

"Dressed, or undressed, you take my breath away," I say, giving him a kiss as he turns from the mirror.

"I don't know how to answer that," he admits.

"Just accept the compliment. Have a good time. Enjoy your friend. I'm going to take a shower, pour me a drink, and curl up with a good book. Now, get out of here. Don't want you to be late." With a parting kiss, he heads out the door.

I enter the restaurant downstairs, and I see Bruce already waiting at the table. I order a drink, and we settle down for a nice meal.

"So, Greg, you look good. Tell me what you've been up too."

"Well, I don't know where to begin. After high school, I went to Columbia, and then onto Columbia Law.

I started my practice with Wright, Cooper, and Green."

"Very prestigious," Bruce interrupts.

".where I was until last month."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I just resigned. I accepted a position with Paradise Cruise Lines."

"Oh yeah. What will you be doing?"

"I'm on a team that's developing a new resort for the line: Paradise Island."

"I heard some buzz about that." We go on discussing PCL financial outlook, corporate hopes, touching very little on my personal life.

"What about you," I ask, as we enjoy a cup of coffee. "Where are you now?"

"I'm in Boston. Like you, I am a lawyer. Capehart, Davis, and Young."

"Impressive, but you were voted the one most likely to succeed." The waiter returns with his credit card, and we prepare to leave. I've had a great time, and I feel as if I have my best friend back.

"Would you like to come up for a drink, and we can continue talking."

I think for a moment. "I shouldn't.."

"Aw, come on. I've enjoyed this evening, and I really don't want it to end. I haven't seen you in so long."

Against my better judgment, I concede, and we go up to his room. It's not as lavish as our suite, but it's okay for a single person.

"You were drinking gin and tonic. Right?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Make yourself comfortable." I sit on the divan in the room.

"So, are you married?" Bruce asks, as he hands me my drink, and sits on the other cushion.

"No, I came close a few times, but never quite made it there. You?"

"No," he chuckles. "I'm not married. Could never find that special someone."

"Hell, Bruce, we all thought that you'd take your pick from any one of the many girls you were dating back in high school, and be settled down by now. What was her name? Jennifer.Jennifer."

"Weeks? Jennifer Weeks?"

"Yeah, her. She was all over you like a cheap suit senior year."

"That's all she was: a cheap suit. But she could suck a dick."

"So, who's sucking you now?"

Bruce lets out a chuckle. "No one right now, unless you see something that I don't." He pauses, look down at his crotch. "It's so good being here with you again. I've thought about you often the past few years. I always asked your Mom about you whenever I came home."

"Why didn't you ever call?"

"She gave me your number, but.I guess I was just too chicken. I planned to call, but minutes turned into hours that turned into days and then months. You know. There were times I really could have used a good friend to talk to, you know?"

"Yeah."

"You could have called."

"You're right. But I plan on rectifying that in the future. I promise to keep in touch, although I don't know what my schedule will be like with the new job, but I plan to make time to have my best friend back in my life."

"Let me freshen up your drink," he says, taking my glass and going back over to the bar. He pours another drink. I notice his is a little heavier than the one he made for me. After handing it to me, he then walks over to the sliding glass doors, looking out the window to the world outside.

"Have you ever been so distraught that you ever thought of ending it all?" he asks. The question catches me totally off guard, but before I can respond, he continues. "I have.

Does that surprise you?" He still hasn't turned from the window. "Here I was, voted the person most likely to do.anything.and I had thoughts of killing myself."

"Bruce, what are you talking about?" I ask, moving up behind him.

"You don't know, buddy boy. You don't know."

"Then tell me," I compel.

"Greg, you'd never understand."

"Try me. We are best friends, right? Best friends try to understand, and support each other, right? Best friends help each other, right? Best friends will go through hell and high water for each other, right? Now, talk to me, please. You know I'd do anything for you. Always would have, always will."

"Greg, you have no idea what you're saying! You can't make promises that you can't keep!"

"Nothing is that bad, Bruce. I'm here for you man. Ask me anything."

He chuckles. "You know, there is something you could have done in the eighth grade."

"The eighth grade?"

He sets his drink on the little table next to the window where I put mine when I came up behind him. "This," he says. He takes my head in his hands and brings his lips to mine. I open my mouth to protest, and he slides his tongue between my lips. I can taste the flavor of the scotch he's drinking in his mouth.

His arms envelope me, pulling me close to his body. I can feel the beginnings of his hardening member as he presses his crotch into mine.

"I've wanted to do this since the eighth grade," he says.

"Bruce." He silences me by putting a finger to my lips. "Please, don't talk. Just let me do this. I have dreamed of this moment for years. Please don't deny me. I promise, just this one time, and you'll never have to see me again. Just let me. You don't have to do anything."

He kisses me again as his hands begin to remove my tie and open my shirt. He moans as he begins to caress the flesh of my chest, Spreading open my shirt, his fingers find my nipples, pinching them, caressing them, and bringing moans of pleasure from my throat as his hands run through the hairs on my chest.

"Feels good, doesn't it? I promise to make you feel better." His hands reach for the buckle of my belt, and soon my pants are in a puddle around my ankles. His hand reaches for the swelling outline of my dick, stroking it, bringing it to full hardness through the fabric.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," he says, dropping to his knees. His trembling hands begin to lower my underwear. I knew I should stop him, but there was such desperation in his pleading, that I didn't have the heart. Besides, deep down, I knew that there was some part of me that wanted this to happen. For a fleeting moment, I think of Dave, but all thoughts dissipate as I feel his lips suddenly close over the head of my dick, and he starts a gentle sucking motion. I realize that this is something that I've wanted for so long just as Bruce has.

Bruce begins to lick and probe my dick, opening his mouth, and swallowing as much as he can. He retreats as the head reaches the back of his throat. I look down into his eyes, seeing the lust and desire there as he stares back at me.

His fingers begin to play with and roll my nuts in his hand, bringing a moan of pleasure from my lips.

He releases my swollen dick from his lips, much to my chagrin, and stands, pulling me back into his arms. Then, with a gentle push, I stumble back and land on the bed. Having my feet tangled in my pants helped.

Bruce removes my shoes, socks, and then pulls my slacks from my legs. Briefly, I experience a fleeting moment of guilt, but that quickly leaves my mind as Bruce reaches out and squeezes my hard shaft.

"I've wanted this for a long time," he says, his voice husky with lust.

He begins to disrobe. His nimble fingers begin to unbutton his shirt, and soon his smooth flesh comes into view. My mouth waters as his pert, little nubs come out of hiding, erect, bright red, and asking to be loved.

His body hadn't changed much in the years since I last saw him. He still maintains the same muscular tone, and there isn't an ounce of fat on him. I watch as he deftly unbuckles his pant, and slowly lowers his zipper, the swell of his cock evident.

The pants drop from his hips, and I see the large wet stain that is coating his shorts, his thick meat pulsating beneath the fabric. His thumbs hook in his waistband, and he begins to lower them. Suddenly, I want to unwrap the treasure, and I scoot to the foot of the bed.

I quickly remove his hands, and slowly peel back the fabric. His hairless groin greets me, making me remember him as a boy, the boy, I realized, I wanted long ago. A boy with man's dick.

I finish removing his shorts, rubbing my face in his crotch. I could hear Bruce moan with the pleasure he was now feeling.

I lick from the base of his cock to the tip, tasting the honey that is flowing freely. His dick is throbbing, pulsating hotly as I open my lips, and bathe his head with my tongue.

"Shit! I'm close, man, real close," he moans. Hearing those words, I swallow him whole. I want him to cum; I need to taste his cum.

His legs begin to tremble, and I feel him throb in my throat. Bruce cries out and I feel him flowing into my body. We cling to each other for dear life, me holding his legs, and him clutching my head as he bends over me from the waist.

I manage to pull back so that his flavor is coating my tongue, filling my mouth, before I swallow him inside. Finally, the throbbing meat ceases spewing his load, and Bruce relaxes. I continue sucking, claiming every drop that he has to offer.

My hands are squeezing the hard, tight globes of his ass. They are like marble, smooth, round, and hard. I release his cock from my mouth. Bruce jerks my head back, and plants his lips to mine, tasting himself.

He crawls up my body until those golden globes are directly over my cock. I feel him begin to lower himself. "Do you have any lube?" I ask.

"Yeah. Give me a sec." He hops off and dashes to the counter next to the bathroom sink. I can see his reflection as he lubes up his ass with petroleum jelly that he has there. I see him shove two fingers up his ass, coating the insides, preparing himself for my hot cock.

I watch as he takes a glob onto his fingers, and walks back to the room. He looks into my eyes. Damn! This boy is hungry, I think.

He lifts my dick from its position on my stomach, and applies the jelly, coating it, getting it ready for entry. I watch as he squats above me. "I've wanted to try this for so long. I'm a virgin, but I want you to have my cherry." With those words, he begins to lower himself onto me.

I hold my dick up, meeting resistance as he begins to settle. He stops, apparent pain registering on his face. I stroke his thighs, urging him to relax. "We don't have to do this," I say.

"Greg," he pants. "We've waited too long already." He begins to lower himself more before he stops. He has about six inches planted. He begins to rock back and forth, pushing more of me into him on each downward thrust until I am firmly seated in him. He stops again, in order to let himself adjust.

Sweat has broken out on both our bodies. Bruce leans over until his lips are inches from mine. "It feels so good," he moans, "just like I knew it would. Now, fuck me!" he begs. "Fuck me. Make up for all those lost years. Fuck me like the cunt you want me to be."

He begins to roll his hips, squeezing me deep, massaging my dick deep inside of him. I can feel him milking me. I reach out and grab his swollen dick, and begin to stoke it.

Bruce begins to bounce up and down. I can hear the sucking of his ass on my phallus. Moan and groans of pleasure emanates from us. Bruce begins to pinch my nipples, an erogenous zone. My hips begin to pound him, rising from the bed on each upward thrust. His ass is so sweet; I know I'm not going to last too much longer.

"Cum with me," I moan, thrusting harder into him. He meets me with hard thrusts of his own. "I'm almost there."

"Me-too! Oh God! Oh God!" I can feel his muscles contract as I slam into him one last time. I erupt with a fury into his ass, spilling my seed deep within him. At the same time, I am being coated by his sperm as it lands on my chin, my chest, streaking my body with his offering.

"You were wonderful," Bruce says as he cuddles me afterwards. I knew you would be. That was the best! We should have done this years ago. I think I have always loved you."

"I should have.we shouldn't have."

"No regrets," he says. At that moment, my left hand comes into view, and I see Dave's ring on my finger.

"What have I done? Oh my God, what have I done?" I disentangle myself from Bruce, quickly grabbing my clothes. Bruce, obviously confused, looks up.

"Greg, what is it? What's the matter?"

"I.I shouldn't have," I sob. "Oh God!"

"Greg? There is no shame in what we've done. Look, it was all my fault." I could hear the worry and the shame in his voice. "It was me, Greg. I'm no good. I should have killed myself long."

"NO!" I shout. "Don't you ever let me hear you say that again," I warn. "It's not you, it's me." My voice is so soft I have trouble hearing me. I begin to sob again, burying my face in my hands, one leg in my pants.

"Then, what is it Greg?" he asks. I see tears streaming down his face as he kneels nude in front of me. "Talk to me," he begs. "Tell me what's going on. Why are you so upset?"

I hold up my left hand, showing him the ring. "I am engaged, if he can forgive me. I betrayed the love of my life.the guy I was with earlier. Dave." I hang my head in shame.

"I didn't know."

"No, I don't blame you, Bruce. I was a major player in this. I could have told you no-I could have left. I have no excuse."

"You don't have to tell him. This can be just our little secret. An itch we scratched from our past. If you tell him."

"If I tell him, I will be honest," I whisper. "We don't have secrets from each other. You didn't see him tonight. He helped me dress. He was happy that we were getting together again after all these years. He even told me to have a good time. How can I ask him to forgive me?"

"If he loves you."

"HE DOES LOVE ME!" I shout. "He loves me so much that he risked his life for me. He loves me so much that he took me back after I abandoned him. And how do I repay him? I betray him."

"Greg, you've got to get a hold of yourself."

"Will you put on some clothes?"

"Look, take a shower, and go home. This never happened. I will never mention it, and I won't look for anything in the future. You go on with your life. I'll go on with mine. You can tell."

"Dave."

".Dave, that we are too far apart to be close again. It was good seeing each other again, but we now have little in common. Too much time has passed. And, if you have to tell him, and you find that he can't forgive you, just look me up. I will always have a place for you, just as it should have been all these years."

I don't hear anymore he says as my mind fogs over. Bruce takes me by the hand, and leads me to the bathroom. He washes me. I am sort of catatonic. He helps me dress, and then, leads me to the elevator.

"I'm in Room 312. I'll be here for another four days. My door is always open-for you." He presses the button to call the elevator. "If.if I never see you again, I want you to know that I have no regrets about what happened tonight. It was the greatest night of my life, and I'll always treasure it."

The elevator opens, and he nudges me inside. I press the button. Nine floors. Nine floors separated me from happiness and heartache.

I take a deep breath and slide the key in the lock, and open the door. The lights are dim, but I can make out the prone figure of Dave lying on the bed. He's been reading, evident by the book laying on his chest. He looks so beautiful, so angelic.

I move over to the bed, just watching him sleep. I suddenly feel so dirty. How could I betray him? How could I risk his love? I feel the tears slowly slide down my cheeks.

I wipe my eyes with the backs of my hands. "Dave? Dave, baby," I call.

He stirs. "Hi honey, did you have a good.Greg, what's the matter?" he asks, noticing my puffy, red eyes.

"Dave, sit with me. I have something to tell you."

Four Become Two: Chapter 23 [part 23 of 23]

I can see the worried look on Dave's face as I sat on the bed beside him. How was I going to tell him this? How was I going to tell him that one day after pledging my love to him, I weakened and slept with another man?

I have NO excuse. I wasn't weak, I wasn't drunk, and I wasn't even raped. I volunteered. I volunteered!

"Greg? What's the matter, sweetheart? Is it one of the children? Your parents? My parents? What?"

I took a deep gulp, looking for courage. "Dave, please hear me out before you say anything, okay?"

Tears were starting to form in his eyes. They were already flowing from me. "Greg, you're scaring me. What is it baby? Let me help you?"

"Dave, I love you."

"Oh, no. This is going to be bad," he says.

"Dave, I'm not sure how it happened, but I slept with Bruce tonight. We went back to his room.for drinks.after dinner, and we got to talking." I told him about Bruce saying that he had thought of suicide; and how I could have helped him in the eighth grade; and then how he kissed me.

I told him how guilty I felt afterwards, and how Bruce suggested that we just keep this away from you when I freaked out. "But I knew I couldn't do that. I knew that I had to tell you. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. I can't forgive myself. I'm just going to ask you to start over again, with me. Don't give up on us."

I waited for an answer. I had been talking with my head lowered, afraid to look in his eyes. When I looked up, Dave was staring at me. Disbelief on his face, tears flowing freely down his face. I hurt even more knowing that I was the cause of those tears.

Dave took a deep breath, and walked into the bathroom, doing something we rarely did. He shut the door.

"Dave? Baby? Can we talk about this?" I begged through the door. No response. After about ten minutes of me pleading with him, the door opened, and he walked out. He didn't even look in my direction.

I watched as he started to get dressed. "Dave, where are you going baby?" He slipped his shoes on, grabbed his cell, and walked out the door. I collapsed in a pile of tears, wondering what the future held, and wondering how I could have ever done something so low.

I don't remember the ride down in the elevator. I was numb. I walked out of the hotel, and began to walk. There was no one around. I looked at my watch. Midnight. "I slept with Bruce," I hear Greg say.

Great! I walked on, thinking about Greg, feeling the tears flow in rivulets down my cheeks. I spot a neon light ahead, and realizing it was a liquor store, I head there. "I slept with Bruce." I grab a pint of the first thing I saw, and walked out.

About three hundred yards down the road, I saw an entrance onto the beach, and I stumbled out there. I sat on the cold sand, feeling the spray of the surf around me. I laugh. It's not spray, but rain. Perfect! "I slept with Bruce."

I unscrew the cap, and take a drink from the bottle. I should get out of the rain. Water might weaken the liquor I chuckle. Whatever this is, I reason, is getting me buzzed.

I look around, there is something like a pier behind me, and I move back to it, just enough out of the rain to keep from being totally exposed. "I slept with Bruce."

Why can't I get that phrase out of my head? I ask aloud. The bigger question is WHY? Why would he cheat? What was it that was missing?

"I thought you loved me, Greg!" I scream, collapsing onto the sand, unable to stop the tears, the rain beating on my back.

Where is he? I ask myself. I goes to the window, and look out. There is a steady downpour. When did it start raining? I didn't get a bit of sleep last night, and Dave didn't come home.

Maybe he went to my parents. I could call, but if he's not there, then I'll have to explain. How can I explain to them how much of a fuck up their son is? I went to the telephone.

"Hello, front desk. This is Mr. Jefferson in room 1215. Do you see Mr. Welsh in the lobby...Well, have you seen him in the last hour? This morning? Well, thank you," I say, hanging up the phone. I decide to give it a little while longer. I won't call Mom and Dad. If he's there, they'll call me!

I am so cold when I wake up. And wet. There is a breeze blowing and it sends a chill to my bones. "I slept with Bruce." It hits me like a ton of bricks, and I start to cry, again. Where I am finding the water?

He was so matter-of-fact. "I slept with Bruce." I thought Greg loved me. "Ha!" I laugh out loud. "You're such a fool."

I find the bottle that I was drinking from, and take a last swig from it. "Well, if he wants Bruce, then he can have Bruce.

I begin to walk back to the hotel, the rain now is torrential. I am completely soaked by the time I enter the building. I get some strange looks from the guests as I move towards the bank of elevators.

I wait impatiently for the car to arrive. "Mr. Welsh?" I hear my name called just as the doors open.

"David? What the hell happened to you?" I look up into the face of Bruce.

"What do you want-Bruce?" The sarcasm is dripping heavily from my voice as I struggle to stand in the elevator. He got back on with me. I felt so fortunate to be the only other passenger with him.

"What happened to you?" he ask, innocence flickering in his eyes.

"Oh, are we playing stupid now? Or are you forgetting you had my boyfriend's dick up your ass last night?"

"He-told-you?" he gulped.

"Yeah. How magnanimous of him, don't you think? How utterly PC to fuck someone, and then tell."

"I'm sure it wasn't like that, Dave."

"Please, call me Mr. Welsh, but I guess we should be on a first name basis since we're fucking the same guy." The elevator arrives at my floor, and I stumble to the door to my suite.

I get the door open. "Honey, we're home!" I shout. Greg comes bounding from the bedroom. He stops when he sees us. Bruce in his beautifully made tailored suit, and I looking like a rag-a-muffin, dirty and soaking wet. "Look who's come to fuck!" My world suddenly goes black as I pass out.

"Hi Mom.how are the kids?.You and dad aren't spoiling them too badly, are you? Remember Dave and I have to live with them.I slept in kind of late this morning.oh Mom, get your mind out of the gutter.anyway, did Dave drive out for them?" I'm hoping against hop that she will say yes. "Okay, if you see him before I do, tell him to give me a ring. I'll have my cell.Give the kids a kiss for me and tell them I love them." At that moment, I hear the door open. "Oh Mom, he's here. We'll be out to pick them up later.Gotta go, mom. Love ya!"

I hang up, and run into the outer room. Surprise would be a misstatement. There is Dave, looking like death warmed over, and Bruce! "Look who's come to fuck!" he says, before he collapses.

Bruce helps me take him into the bedroom. He is soaking wet, and he smells of alcohol. "Go draw a tub of water. Make it hot. He's burning up." I begin to strip off his clothes.

I get him naked, and together, Bruce and I get him into the tub. Slowly, Dave begins to come back around. I sit there on the side of the tub, a washcloth in my hand, gently washing away the grime that covers his body.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper to him, tears streaming from my eyes. "I don't know how I could have done what I did. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me, because I can't forgive myself. I just don't want you to be sick. Getting sick over me is not worth it. I'm not worth it!

I would give everything I own to take away the pain. You don't deserve this. What did you do? You sent me out for a night of fun and remembrances with an old friend. It was me! I'm the one that's no good.

Just say the word, and I'll leave you alone. I don't want to go, but rather than cause you any more pain, I'll go." Tears are now flowing freely down my cheeks. "I just love you so much. The happiest I've been."

"Greg?"

"Yeah, Dave?"

"Just shut the fuck up. I can't deal with this now," he says. I wasn't even aware that he had heard me. He tries to move, to get out of the tub, but in his weaken condition, that is impossible.

"Let me help you," I say, wrapping my left arm about him, and then assisting him in sitting up.

With unsteady legs, he steps out of the shower. I help to dry him off, and naked, he walks back into the bedroom. I didn't know Bruce was still here. I look in his direction but don't acknowledge him as I crawl into bed.

"Greg, sleep on the couch tonight, and tell Bruce that I want to talk with him in the morning," he says. He is soon snoring lightly.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said as I came into the outer room.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Bruce. The guilt belongs to me. I'm the one who fucked up."

"But."

"Bruce, I am the one who broke the trust-again. I am the one who broke his heart." I couldn't stop the tears that flowed. I sat on the chair. Bruce continued to stand, allowing me the chance to cry the pain out.

"I need to order him some food. Who knows the last time he ate. He has a little fever, so I'm going to get him some soup." I pick up the phone, and dial for room service. I order Dave a bowl of soup, and a sandwich, as well as had them brew a pot of tea.

"I'm going to go change, but I'll be back," Bruce says when the food arrives.

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do. Dave said that he wanted to talk with me, and I owe him that. Besides," he says with a leer. "I might get the chance to see him naked again, you lucky thing, you." I give him a half-hearted smile.

About fifteen minutes later, the door chimes sounded, and Bruce reappeared. This time he was dressed very casually in a pair of lounging pajamas and his robe and slippers. He was only wearing the bottoms to his PJs, and I could see a splattering of hair on his perfectly formed chest.

"Why don't you fix us a drink?" he asks, "and then we can talk. Okay?"

"As long as we just talk. Remember, this is why I'm sleeping out here instead of in there with Dave."

"I want to apologize again for my part in this," he says.

"I can't really blame you. It took the both of us. My guilt out-weighs yours by a ton."

I go on, telling him about Dave and my history, being prompted further upon his questioning. "So, these two women tried to have you killed?"

"Yeah, isn't that a trip? They both were arrested last September, Shelia in Houston, and Annette in St. Thomas.

It took us months and months to finally get our children. When that happened, it seemed that the world started to fall in place. On our way back from St. Thomas with them, we received a call from Dave's father, saying that he wanted us in Chicago, immediately!

Dave thought that this was the perfect opportunity to introduce them to the children-our children, so we flew to Chicago. It's also the first time I really got to see, or experience, Dave's wealth. I really had no idea."

"Really? You had no idea?"

"No! I knew that he had money. Christ! He has his own private jet. But, Bruce, he's filthy. He grew up on Lake Shore Drive, in a tree-story penthouse apartment that occupies the top three floors of a 30-story building.

We visited PCL Headquarters, which is on a lower floor."

"Why did his Dad want to see him? What was so urgent?"

"I don't know if you read the papers, or if you saw the news, but PCL announced that they were developing a new resort, Paradise Island? Well, Dave's dad has convinced the board and the stockholders that this project is important enough to be handled personally. He has such respect and has made the company so much money with his visions that they trust his judgment.

He asked Dave, his brothers, Rich and Jeff, and me to head the project. Rich is an architect; Jeff is an engineer; Dave and I are lawyers; so, he figures he has sensible people at the helm.

"I'm sensible, alright," I add, somewhat crestfallen. "How could I do this to him? I've fucked up once again."

The ringing of Dave's cell phone interrupts my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I say, answering the phone.

"Jeff? He's sleeping.what? When.Okay, we're coming.As soon as Scott can get here.See you in a couple of hours."

"What's the matter, Greg? You're as white as a ghost!"

"That.that was Jeff, Dave's brother. Robert and Mavis.they're missing."

"Who are Robert and Mavis?"

"Dave's parents.they're missing."

"Oh God!"

"I have to tell him. We have to go! Let me call Scott first."

I speed dial Scott's number from Dave's cell. I look over at the clock. 4:45 a.m. "Scott? This is Greg.Greg Jefferson. I hate to waken you, but it's an emergency. We need you to fly us to Chicago as soon as possible. It's Dave's parents. They are missing.we are in Maryland.Yeah, there's an airport near here, in New Castle.Okay.see you at seven."

I then call Mom and Dad to see if they can watch the children. Of course, they had no problem with that.

I then went in to tell Dave. "Dave? Dave, honey. Wake up." He groggily opens his eyes. I can see the pain in them, and it forces me to look away.

"What's the matter? The children?" he asks.

"No, no, the children are fine. I just spoke with Mom. It's your parents Dave, Bob and Mavis.they're missing."

"Missing? What do you mean, they're missing?"

"Jeff called. I don't know all the details, but they're plane was flying over the mountains of upstate New York. There was an unexpected storm.Dave, the plane went down."

"We've got to go.do you think Penelope and Dean."

"I've already called them, and Scott too. He's meeting us in New Castle. At seven."

He jumps up from bed. I can't help but get a twinge of lust as I see his naked body. He does that to me. Bruce is also looking, I notice, as Dave tosses his robe over his shoulders. It is then he notices Bruce.

"Bruce? What are you doing here?"

"You asked me to stay. I'm sorry about your parents. Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah, Bruce. Can you drive us to the airport?" Greg asks. "I don't think either of us should be driving."

"No problem. Let me go change." He dashes out the door. I look at Dave. His face is showing mixed emotions right now.

"We're too emotional to be driving," I answer his unasked question. Without a response, he turns and goes into the bathroom.

Within an hour, we were on our way to the airport with Bruce behind the wheel. I had packed a couple of items in a bag, and made arrangements with the hotel to reserve our rooms, indefinitely. Almost immediately, I began to feel drowsy, and Dave permitted me to lay my head on his shoulder. Having him near me again soon had me entering slumber land (since I hadn't been to sleep it was easy).

We had been traveling about fifteen minutes when Bruce spoke, "Dave?" he said, looking in backseat at us using the rearview mirror, "this may not be the right time, but I may never have this opportunity again.

I want to personally apologize for causing you-the two of you-pain. I had a plan in mind to seduce Greg the moment he agreed to have dinner with me. In my defense, I did not realize that you were a couple. Actually, I think I have wanted him all my life. It was just a fantasy fulfilled, but it showed me what I've been needing to know all these years.

I've come to some hard conclusions since then. I am gay! I've never experienced anything as wonderful as the pleasure that Greg gave me. And I've never felt as much guilt as I feel knowing that I may have done something to hurt you.

I hope that you won't let this come between the two of you. You have something that I want to attain-a loving, caring relationship."

"Bruce, I respect what you just said, but my relationship with Greg, frankly, is none of your business."

"That's true, but I care about him too."

"Look, what happened hurt-it hurt a lot, especially since the night before we pledged our love to each other, and exchange promissory rings in anticipation of a commitment ceremony. Don't think that I'm going to throw that away, but right now I'm hurt, and I'm in mourning-grieving the loss of some of the trust that it has taken so long for us to rebuild.

And I'm questioning myself. What made it so easy for Greg to fall into your bed-and not mine? What were you offering him that I wasn't? Does he really love me, and want me as he says he does?"

"I'm so sorry," Greg says, sobbing.

"Greg, I didn't know you were awake."

"I'm sorry, baby. I just put myself in your shoes. I feel the pain that you're feeling-truly, honestly. It hurts so much. You should hate me. I hate me. I am so disappointed in me. How can I ever ask you to forgive me?"

"I do forgive you Greg, but."

"It's a matter of trust," he concludes. "How to trust me again is the issue. I promise to spend the rest of my life rebuilding that trust. I promise to never take you for granted-again!"

I truly believed what Greg just said. There was so much sincerity in his voice that it made my heart ache. I loved him so much. I pulled him closer to me. This didn't seem to pass Bruce's eyes, and a smile formed at the corner of his lips. At mine, too.

"Does this mean that we can be-just friends?" Bruce asks.

"I won't promise, Bruce, but I'll try," I answer.

"I understand, Dave. But I'll understand if."

"Let's try. Hey, we all need friends." He nods.

We would weather this storm as we face a new one on the horizon.

"So Bruce, what have you got planned for the next few days," I ask, noticing the surprised look on Greg's face.

"Well, after I take the van back to the rental agent, I don't know, I thought I'd just hang around town for a few more days. I don't have to be back at the firm for another two weeks. I should do some work on the reunion plans."

"Why don't you come with us to Chicago?"

"Dave," Greg interjects, "maybe Bruce would rather stay here." The Gulfstream had not landed yet, but it should be momentarily. I had received a call from Scott telling me he was on approach.

"I couldn't go with you.I'd be in the way, what with all you will be doing. Anyway, wouldn't it be kind of awkward?"

"Bruce, if we're going to get past this, and be friends, we should get to know one another better. I don't mean like you and Greg know each other." They both blush with embarrassment. "But on a more-casual-term," I continue.

"What about my clothes-and the hotel room?"

"That's not a problem. Come on, climb aboard," I urge. "We can have your clothes packed, or just go shopping. And the room can be put on hold." Again, I urge Bruce to climb aboard, and he relents.

Bruce gushed over the plane, after all, she is a sight to behold. Once airborne, I urged Greg to give him a tour.

It wasn't long before we were landing at Midway. As always, Scott had called for a car, and soon we were in the elevator taking us to the penthouse.

Sadie met us at the door. I had never seen her so down, or so quiet. Shortly after heartfelt hugs to Greg, and me we introduced her to Bruce.

"Where are the babies?" she asked.

"My parents are taking care of them for us Sadie," Greg answered.

"Well, I guess they are better off. I was just hoping for a little distraction, now I'll have to focus all of my attention on all of you."

"Uh oh, looks like were in for some heavy mothering," Jeff said as we walked into the foyer. He immediately embraced me, and then Greg. I could feel the tension in his body.

"They're going to be alright," I said to him.

"Yeah."

"Little Bro, I'd like to introduce Bruce Whitaker. Bruce is an old friend of Greg's who we ran into in Delaware. Bruce, this is my younger brother, Jeffrey Welsh." They shake hands, holding on a little long, I notice.

"Nice to meet you," Jeff says.

"Same here," Bruce answers, looking into Jeff's soft brown eyes. "I just wish the circumstances were better."

"Yeah, me too."

"Come on, y'all. Breakfast is ready," Sadie says, coming into the room. No one really had an appetite as we sat there listening to Jeff recount the details that he knew.

Mom and Dad had gone to Vermont to visit her sister and family, Aunt Mabel, and everything was fine, as far as he knew. They had only been airborne for a short while when the tower at Montpelier received a distress call from their plane.

Apparently, they had a leak in their fuel tank, and that there was something wrong with the instrument panel. A sudden storm had arisen, producing heavy snow and lightning. The lightning had struck the plane, disabling the instruments. The pilot radioed his position as best he knew, but so far a search of the area so far had failed to locate them. "We just have to be patient and wait.

"Some guy named Bryan Lane wanted me to tell you that he was there, and that he'd let us know as soon as he knew something," Jeff said.

"Bryan is there?" I asked.

"I guess so," Jeff answered.

"Who is Bryan Lane?" All of us turn as Rich and Betsy come into the room. "Well?"

"Bryan was one of the detectives that assisted us with Shelia and Annette," Greg answers Rich. "Hi Rich. Hi Betsy."

"Hi everyone," they say simultaneously. "Who are you?" Rich continues.

"This is Bruce Whitaker. A friend of Greg's." We were surprised that the introduction came from Jeff.

"Oh, nice to meet you, Bruce. My wife, Betsy," he says indicating Betsy.

"Nice to meet both of you, but I wish the circumstances were different," he answers.

"So, what do you know?"

Once again, Jeff recounts the events as best he knew, filling in Rich and Betsy. "You two look like shit," Rich comments, when Jeff finishes. "And is the honey.is there honey in the kitchen?" he continues, obviously changing his train of thought in the process.

I glare at him rather openly. I hate the way he subject-hops, and his smug attitude. "I'm tried. I'm going to bed. Bruce, make yourself at home. I'm sure everyone here will make you comfortable." I head off towards my room. I soon hear footsteps behind me. I know it's Greg.