Guy's Secret (ERW) Chapter 9 December 14, 2000
Written By: Justin Case
Disclaimer: This story is written about young gay love. There are parts of it that contain graphic sexual descriptions; if this is illegal for you to view then you need to leave. This story is fiction, any resemblances to actual people, places or events is pure coincidence. The author, his editor and the web site accept no responsibility for your actions after you have read this story. This work is placed here for educational and entertainment purposes.
Words from our author: Hey, my peeps! WASSUP? Thanks for all your letters; it is sooo good to hear from you all. I really like receiving your thoughts. It is truly an honor to get your mail. I hope you're all ready for the holidays. I want to extend my heartfelt wishes to each and every one of you for a safe and peaceful holiday season.
I have heard from so many, I can't begin to name you all. I love you for taking your time to write me, as well as the IMs you send me. For the new comers, the address is Justin69SK@aol.com; don't be bashful! I love getting mail.
Wow, can you believe it? Here in America we finally seem to have a President Elect. Isn't democracy great? I got to tell you, I was beginning to wonder if it was all some plot by the aristocrats. You never know. This past election process seemed like something out of Hollywood, with all the plot twists and characters. I'm just glad it's over and we can rest easy once again. With that said let's get on with the story.
"How come Father Beck didn't say anything to you yesterday, Chester?" Peejo asked his friend. "I thought you and he had lunch."
The two were in the Walters' office. Walters was sitting behind his desk, fumbling around for a cigar. He finally pulled the wooden box closer to him and withdrew a finely rolled Cuban cigar. He stared intently at Woodman.
"What the fuck ya expect? Beck don't like me," Walters retorted. He paused before adding, "I think he's sweet on the wife though."
"Yeah, but he could have told you he'd arranged for all that money. I mean ninety thousand dollars is a lot of cash," Peejo observed. "You would have thought he'd be bragging."
Walters stood up from his chair, walked to the window, and pulled the drapes back to cast his gaze into the street. He secretly made a signal; he had seen what he was looking for. He turned from the window and let the curtain drop.
"I don't know, Peejo. Why don't you run along and let me get some work done," Walters said, dismissing the Sheriff like lint from clothing.
The red domed Sheriff put his hat on as he left the building and stepped into the street. He walked directly to his patrol car, parked right in front. As the squad car slipped into traffic, two other cars started their engines. One was a small foreign car, light blue in color, while the other was a solid black Ford LTD. The blue car followed the Sheriff and the Ford trailed behind.
"Woodman," the radio speaker in Peejo's cruiser buzzed.
"10-4," he replied into the microphone.
"What's your 20? Can you come to the office?"
"10-4, I'm on Main and Spruce. See you in five."
A few moments later, as Peejo pulled up at the station, two cars glided by quietly; he never noticed either of them. ______
Molly Butterfield kicked back in her office chair as she talked on the phone with Judge Rudebaker. The Judge was sweet on Miss Molly. Actually, he was sweet on a lot of young women, and Miss Molly loved teasing the older man. "It's all in a day's work," she thought to herself as the Judge gave her the heads up on his decision.
"Y'all know if we had a will this would all be different," the Judge explained.
"I understand, your Honor."
"My hands are kind of tied on this one. It seems Ol' Doc Harrington's endowment is specific and only for the children's needs; it can't be used for the taxes."
"Could I make a motion for a delay?" Molly inquired.
"I suppose. We have to hope Lester and his bunch don't object. If I was a pretty young lawyer like yourself, I'd start writing my brief now," the Judge told her before disconnecting the call.
Miss Molly placed the phone back in it's cradle and stared at it. Was the Judge actually hinting that he would rule in her favor? He did seem to give her a leg up on the case. She would have to get to the trustees of the Harrington Endowment Fund. The trustees would certainly change the stipulation of the donation if they knew the entire situation.
Molly reached for her phone again and punched in some numbers. She sat there as the other end rang three times before being answered.
"Hello, Father Beck?" she asked.
"Yes," came the Reverend's response.
"This is Molly Butterfield. Could you come over to my office sometime today?"
"Why certainly Miss Molly. What would be a good time?"
"Give me a few hours; I have to do some paper work. Let's say about two," Molly explained.
"That's good for me, I'll see you at two."
Molly called out for her legal clerk and the two began preparing the briefs for the postponement of the Hilton County v. Sugardale portion of the trial. The custody portion had been decided; the Johnsons would become the guardians for the minor children.
"Oh, I need to call the Mr. and Mrs. Johnson," Molly reminded her legal assistant. ______
While in Walters' office, he and John Lester were having a little conference of their own.
"The arrangements are in place; it should happen this evening," Walters was saying.
"Yes, that's good. I like two instead of three," Lester said approvingly. Are we sure about the techniques?"
"Oh yes, very similar to the Harrington thing," the Judge assured him him.
"Very good, call me when it's done." With that said, Lester left the smoke filled chamber.
"Matty! Guy! come on down, ya'all," Nancy Sue called from the kitchen in the Williams' home.
"Coming, ma'am."
The boys were in Matty's bedroom playing on the computer. They both ambled down the stairs to see what Mrs. Williams wanted.
"Oh boys, I feel so bad we never had that fried chicken I promised, so I'm making it tonight. I thought we'd invite the Johnsons and your brothers and sisters, Guy," she told the two young men.
"Thanks, Mom!" Matty exclaimed. He loved her fried chicken.
"Thank you Mrs. Williams," Guy said, almost speaking on top of Matty.
"Why don't you boys run along and get some fresh air?" she suggested. "Maybe you could go check on the Sugardale house.".
"Come on Guy; let's go get some of your games and stuff," Matty said bounding for the back door.
The two ran all the way to the Sugardale Farm with the same thing on their mind: the touch of each other with total privacy. They managed to get to the farm in record time, Guy practically braking the screen door from its hinges as he tore it open.
"Wow. Such brute strength," Matty laughed.
"Yeah, watch it, Buster."
"Oh and so tough! My man has muscles and brains," Matty teased.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Guy asked with a sly grin.
"You horny toad," Matty chuckled, "of course I am."
The two boys started towards the stairs across the living room when the phone rang. Guy cut into the kitchen to answer it while Matty bounded up the stairs.
"Hurry up! I can hardly wait," Matty shouted excitedly.
"Who's the horny toad?" Guy shot just before turning his attention to the phone. "Hello?"
"Who's this?" a voice asked.
"Guy Sugardale. Who am I talking with?"
"Guy, you must be the oldest. This is your cousin from New York. John Melvin Sugardale."
"Who?" Guy couldn't believe his ears.
"From your Daddy's side of the family. I'm his brother, John's son; I'm the lawyer in the family. I received a copy of the obituary in the mail from Ted Drucker. You see I have been taking care of your Dad's affairs for years. He and Ted went to school together; they were best friends."
"You mean Ted Drucker from Drucker's Hardware?" Guy asked his newfound family member.
"That's the one."
"I never knew Uncle John had a son. Gosh he died so long ago," Guy said, trying to remember just how long ago it was.
"That's because he and my mom got divorced before you were born. She took me back to her home," Cousin John explained.
"Wow," was Guy's only response.
"Anyhow, Ted tells me there seems to be some legal problems down there. He read about it in the Hilton paper this morning and faxed me a copy of the article about you kids being left to the demise of the court. He had no idea you didn't of know me. I'm flying down tomorrow, Guy. I'll straighten everything out, don't you worry."
"Wow," again his only response. He was practically jumping for the stairs before he hung up.
"Matty! Matty! You won't believe it," Guy shouted to his lover.
He told Matty everything. Matty was so happy for Guy that he just couldn't stop hugging him.
The two stripped each other in a heated rush. Guy watched Matty as he slipped his shirt off over his head. He liked looking at the black hairs under Matty's arms. He liked looking at Matty's chest, especially the nipples. He could feel his five-inch member straining against his jockeys.
Matty undid Guy's belt and pants, then slowly pulled them down his downy legs. He loved looking at Guy in just his white briefs, especially when they bulged with his hard dick inside.
The two boys, both naked, climbed into the bed and pulled together kissing each other. Those little nibble kisses that they had both liked so much. They each took turns running their hands over each other's bodies, feeling every little nook and cranny.
The two boys were drenched in sweat on that hot June day. Their young muscular bodies gleamed in the sunlight dancing off their bodies. Matty's six-inch cock head was soaked with pre-cum. The two were breathing deep and heavy as they stroked each other's bodies, lightly smooching.
Guy looked down at Matty's dick and started to rub the pre-cum all over it. He loved the velvety feeling of his friend's prick while he slicked it down. He used his other hand to probe Matty's tight butt hole. He moved so his head was down between Matty's legs. He wanted to lick his friend's asshole. He started flicking his tongue in and around the pink puckered hole, which was really accenuated against his dark skin. Matty's musky scent seemed to cling to his nostrils.
"Mmm," Matty moaned. "Oh yes Guy. That feels so good."
Matty just lay there in shear pleasure, allowing Guy to do what he wanted. He wanted to be fucked. He wanted that five-inch hard, hot young boy cock inside him, the moist tongue was driving him nuts.
"Oh, Buddy, I want you. Please put it in me," Matty whimpered.
Guy grabbed Matty's legs at the knee joints and placed them onto his shoulders. He stared down at Matty's serene face beneath him. He lowered his body so his cock was just outside Matty's asshole. Matty reached up with his right hand and guided his friend's dick to the eager hole. Guy began to push forward.
"Arggh! Ow, it hurts. Stop."
"Hang on, Buddy; it only hurts for a second. Relax."
"Mmm, yeah. Okay. Do it."
Guy pushed his hardened member into Matty, and warmth surrounded his cock. He could feel the ass muscles grab his dick. It was pure heaven. He couldn't hold out long before he would shoot his hot come into that sweet ass. He pumped deep and hard into his friend's butt. He grabbed the cheeks and pulled Matty towards him to get in as deep as he could.
"Oh, Guy, I'm gonna come," Matty yelped as his boy juice began to squirt all over his chest.
"Mmm, me, too," Guy moaned as he dumped his load into Matty's hot hole.
The two collapsed into the bed like a bundle of clothes dropped down the laundry shoot. The two young, sweaty bodies embraced in a tangle of legs and arms. The blankets were all balled up beneath them. The only strength either had was to kiss each other, and that's just what they did.
"Matty, I can't help feeling the way I do about you; but I still feel a little guilty about doing it," Guy said thoughtfully to his bedmate.
"Guy, never let others make you feel bad about what is right for you. You have to know that we are the way we are. It's all right to express our love for one another," Matty reassured Guy with great confidence.
It was two o'clock as Father Beck walked into Molly Butterfield's law office. The bespectacled man of the cloth was greeted by the law clerk in the front office. The reception area was decorated simply with a few paintings on the walls; obviously reproductions. The assistant's desk sat just outside Miss Molly's private office, facing the entrance door. The carpet on the floor was worn with age as was most of the furnishings in the small room. Father Beck took a seat on the wooden bench across from Molly's assistant.
"You must be Father Beck," came the nondescript woman's voice.
"Yes, I am."
"Attorney Butterfield will be right with you."
Just then Miss Molly appeared from her office. She walked with purpose across the small room and greeted Father Beck with her pleasantries and escorted him into her office.
"Have a seat, Father," Molly spoke as she took her seat behind her desk. " Thank you for coming on such short notice."
"Not a problem. I assumed it was important. Is it about the case?"
"Yes, sir. It seems we have a slight problem with the Harrington Endowment Fund," she said briskly.
"What kind of problem?"
"Well apparently the funds can only be used for the children's needs and not to pay the tax bill." Molly hoped he would take her lead.
"I see. Is there something I can do? I mean, we had an immediate church meeting to donate the ten thousand and I personally donated five thousand of my own money. The church doesn't have anymore funds it can give. I suppose I could talk with Oscar Long; he's on the Harrington Fund Trustee committee." Father Beck thought out loud.
"That would be great. I'd be willing to meet with Mr. Long if you thought it would help," Molly suggested with great hopes to move the meeting to a priority in the Reverend's schedule, as well as Mr. Long's.
"We could call him right now," Father Beck recommended.
"That would be great. I hope he can see us as soon as possible."
Just as the meeting in Butterfield's office was taking place, the phone rang in the Sheriff's office.
"Sheriff's Office," the older woman stated into the black telephone.
"I heard gun shots over at the Simpsons' farm," the caller reported.
"I'll send the Sheriff right over. Who's calling?" The line went dead.
"What was that all about, Phyllis?" Sheriff Woodman asked her.
"Report of gun fire at the Simpson's."
"I better roll. Call the State Police for back-up," Peejo said as he rushed out the door to answer the call.
Peejo ran to his squad car, flung open the driver's door, and jumped in. He immediately reached for the lights and siren knob on the Motorola control box. The police car shot from it's parking space like a rocket, siren blaring, tires squealing. Peejo's body pumped with adrenalin as he sped over the windy country roads. He never saw it coming.
A pick-up truck quickly approached the intersection of Old County Road and Farm Road 110. The pick-up was headed East on Old Country Road, Peejo was headed South on Farm Road 110. The two vehicles collided. Peejo was killed on impact. ------------
Phew, wow, that was steamy. Well what'd you think? Still don't know where we're going, do you? All in good time. All in good time. Hey, write me with your comments! I love hearing from you all. Justin69SK@aol.com Until next time. Thanks Joey for editing.
You're welcome. ;) Joey says.