In the morning I told Teach everything that had happened, my father's cold, calculating decision to move to New York and then go to Europe on business. Teach understood my hatred for him but said little as I vented.
When I was done, he simply said, "So, on Friday, pack whatever you need. My father's sending a limo that will take us to the North Shore for the break."
"That's really kind, Teddy, but I don't want to impose ..." I said, not comfortable with being the object of his charity.
"It's already decided. I talked with my folks the day you left and they insisted you come home for the break," he said. "I mean, where else are you going to go? Your old man won't put you up, he'll be gone. You can't stay here, the school closes and everyone flees for sanity. And you don't want to go with one of the faculty or stay in a local home.
"Besides, we both know you'd rather be with me," he beamed, "and frankly, I'd rather be with you. We need each other, y'know, how could we be apart?"
So it was settled. I was more than content. Plus, I was curious to know more about Teach and his family. He almost never talked about them, except his father, who was an alum and so could provide necessary clues about survival at St. Philip's.
The limo passed through the gate of the high brick walls surrounding the estate and deposited us at the front entrance to a Georgian three-story brick house overlooking the ocean. It was breathtaking and spoke of old, old money that was way out of league with my family background. This was the real deal.
Teach and I carried our bags into the foyer and he hollered out, "Anybody home?" The question echoed in the smooth marble floors and halls and 16th century mirrors in gilt frames reflected our scruffy images back at us.
Teach grabbed my hand and led me through the doorway to the left, up a short flight of stairs, then through a swinging door into the kitchen. "Hello, Cathy," he said to the large woman in a white coat and huge apron who was just pulling a tray of cookies from the oven.
She turned, set the tray quickly on the marble counter, dusted the flour off her hands, and gave him a huge grin and a firm hug.
"Well, look at you!" she beamed. "All grown up and no doubt in need of nourishment."
Turning to me, she asked, "And who might you be, young sir?"
I held out my hand and said, " I'm Michael. Pleased to meet you." She brushed my hand away and enveloped me in a similar hug, smelling warmly of yeast and flour and good food. "Any friend of Teddy's is a friend of mine," she said. "Sit down and tell me everything -- and I mean everything!"
She lifted two perfect Toll House cookies off the sheet then poured two big glasses of cold milk and plopped herself into a chair at the end of the kitchen table.
Teach rattled off any number of events and names and answered all of her questions while we inhaled most of her freshly baked cookies.
She had just turned to me when a woman entered through the swinging door and proclaimed, "Theodore. Dear. How are you?"
She talked through her teeth and her voice was hard and cold. She was of medium height, 5'6" or so, very thin, and draped in a casual dress that was anything but casual. Her face was pinched, her light blond hair was perfectly coiffed and she wore diamond earrings. Her fingers were covered in rings; platinum bracelets clanked on her wrists as she reached for Teddy with hands like claws. It was a cold hug, then she pushed him back, assessing him down her long aquiline nose. "You've grown. We'll send you down to Brooks Brothers before you return."
Turning to me, she stared for a moment and stated, "You must be Michael. Welcome." That was it. She turned away from me without a second glance. I was dismissed.
The cook busied herself at the oven and Mrs. Harrington began giving orders for dinner.
Teach tugged on my arm and we left through the swinging door as his mother added instructions.
"Don't worry about her," he said. "She's always very focused. C'mon, let's get our things upstairs."
The house was huge and filled with museum-quality antiques. Teddy led me down a second-floor hallway into his room which overlooked the bay. We could see and hear the waves crashing on the rocks below.
"Not bad," I offered. "Not bad at all."
"The view is AWESOME during a winter storm," he said, flopping down on the big double bed which looked as if it could have come from a royal palace in England.
He patted the bed beside him and I joined him, propping myself on piles of pillows to gaze at the raging sea.
"I'm so glad you're here," he said, turning to me. "I would have been lonely without you."
He snuggled next to me and pulled me over so I was facing him. He reached behind my head and pulled my face into a deep kiss.
"Mmmmm, I needed that," he said.
"We both did," I said, bravely grabbing his half-hard cock through his khakis as he reached for mine. We rubbed each other to full hardness and pulled our bodies together, rocking slowly as we kissed and breathed as one.
We must have dozed off because some time later there was a light tap on the bedroom door and a voice said, "Dinner in 20 minutes."
Teddy leapt off the bed looking flustered -- the first time I remember him being disconcerted.
He checked his crotch to make sure nothing was showing then responded, "OK. We'll be right down."
"Guess we'll need to wait until later," he said. "Put on a clean shirt, tie and your blazer; we always dress for dinner."
He quickly changed and left me to get ready in the adjoining bathroom. I went downstairs and followed voices toward what I assumed was the dining room. I stopped just short of the doorway as I heard Mrs. Harrington say:
"What do you know about him, Theodore? I mean, he seems polite enough but he looks so common. Couldn't you choose a better friend?"
Teach caught my eye in a mirror through the doorway and blanched. She couldn't see me and I couldn't see her but Teach could see us both.
"Mother, that's not fair," he said. "He's my roommate, assigned by the school, and we've become best friends and he's a great student, he helps me with my homework, he's an OK athlete and his mother died only a few weeks ago and he needed to stay somewhere and I want him to feel welcome with us."
It was the fastest monologue I'd heard from Teddy during all of our time together. He seemed nervous around her, not the confident Teddy I knew at school.
"Well, that's all very good and very tragic about his mother, but you need to be aware of your future. Who you know is more important than what you know at St. Philip's. Don't ever forget that," and she walked away into another room.
I felt as if all of my intestines had been pulled out of me by a pair of pliers an inch at a time. I didn't want to be there or stay there but I had nowhere else to go.
Teddy walked into the hall where I was attempting to blend into the brocaded wallpaper. He grabbed me by the shoulders, lifted my chin and looked deep into my eyes. "She has the same personality as the Wicked Witch of the West," he said, sadly. "Pay no attention. You're here with me, not her. In two days she flies to France to be with her sister for the rest of our vacation. So buck up, play the man, pretend you didn't hear that, and let's move on."
I nodded and sat down in a flimsy ancient chair next to a credenza in the hall.
Taking a deep breath, I said, "OK. But I can't pretend I didn't hear that. I just want to know one thing: do you believe she's right? Because if you do, I'll pack and leave right now.”
"Mike, you know I don't," he said. "Listen, we can't talk about this right here, right now. Tonight, after dinner. OK?"
I nodded and we went into dinner with the family. I remember almost nothing. I couldn't even remember the names of the other people who were introduced. I simply ate, swallowed as best I could, and nodded or answered yes or no.
Teddy's father was as boisterous as Teddy, as entertaining and carefree and fully himself -- an older version of the boy I knew so well. His mother ate in stony silence, asking appropriate questions and providing appropriate answers but little else. She excused herself as soon as possible. I didn't see her the rest of my time in their home.
Teddy's father, Max (for Maximillian) was incredibly gracious. The room instantly thawed when Mrs. Harrington left and I finally was dragged into disclosing what I thought about St. Philip's, my classes, the faculty -- some of whom had taught Max Harrington when he was a boy -- life in the dorm, the names of classmates, some of whom were sons of his classmates.
He brought out a decanter of brandy and allowed us a small snifter, saying it was time we learned how to drink after dinner. He instructed us about the history of brandy, how brandies differed, how to decant them, sniff them, taste them, and invest in them. It was wonderful and the precious liquid burned in my mouth and throat but left me feeling relaxed and mellow.
About 9 p.m. he excused himself and suggested we head upstairs for the night, being certain that Mrs. Harrington not be informed about the brandy.
We said goodnight and, after he left the dining room, Teddy refilled our snifters and pointed toward the kitchen and the backs stairs to the second floor.
When we reached the hallway, Teddy did a little dance toward his room and beckoned me to follow. Once inside, he took our snifters, set them on his desk and locked the door. Smiling conspiratorially, he tiptoed to the window and closed the curtains and turned down the lights, leaving only a bedside lamp glowing softly. He turned to me and did a slow, silent strip tease in the center of the room, loosening his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, unzipping his pants and shedding every stitch until he stood naked and hard before me.
I was as hard as steel and sweating as he walked to me and repeated the removal of every piece of clothing on me, tossing them toward the closet.
Grabbing the snifters, he joined me in the center of the room, lifted his glass in salute and took a sip. The sweet aroma of brandy filled the space between us and then I took a sip and returned the salute.
He drew me toward the bed, setting the snifters on the night stand, and pushed me onto my back. Crawling atop me, he slowly eased himself down until our bodies melded together, our hard cocks sliding back and forth, our arms entwined, our breath hot on each others' necks.
"Is this safe?" I whispered.
"No one will bother us now. They're in a different part of the house," he said. "We're all alone for the night."
I relaxed and he kissed me, pushing his tongue into my mouth and I accepted him and savored his sweet taste. If it was possible, I became even harder and thrust upward onto his groin, lifting us both off of the covers.
He pushed back, forcing me into the soft mattress and made circular grinding motions with his hips to increase the friction in our groins. We stayed that way for a few minutes, lost in our own world of lust and love. God! It felt so good.
Sliding off of me, he reached over to the night stand and handed me a snifter. We clinked glasses and took a good slug. It burned but felt and tasted so good.
Putting his glass aside, he went to his closet door, turned and asked, "Want to see something really hot?"
I nodded and he went inside and burrowed around for a moment before returning with a paper bag with something heavy inside.
"One of my friends has an older brother who bought these at an adult bookstore in the Combat Zone in Boston," he said, sliding the magazines out of the plain brown paper bag.
The cover of the top magazine had discretely covered colored photographs of naked women. He handed it to me and I opened it to see that inside the contents were more explicit. The naked women held no interest but the naked men and their giant cocks did!
I looked at him and he was watching me, slowly stroking his rod. "Go to the centerfold," he said, so I turned the well-worn pages to find the double-page photograph of a handsome man with his huge cock sliding into a very wet cunt.
That was hot enough but there was more. Taking the magazine he handed another to me. The cover was torn off and the first page was some sort of advertisement, but the next few pages were all black-and-white photos of naked men, some of them only a few years older than we were.
I flipped through the pages, feasting on the contents, wanting to linger and wanting to see what was on the next page.
When I got to the centerfold my mouth went dry and my hands shook. There, in vivid color, were two young men and one was shoving his penis into the other's asshole. I'd never even imagined doing that! I didn't find it disgusting; in fact I wondered what it would feel like to be both boys. My cock jumped in my lap and a huge line of pre-cum dripped onto my pubes.
"Shit!" I whispered. "Do boys really do that?" I looked at Teddy and his eyes were glazed with pure lust.
"Yeah," he said. "They do."
I looked down into his crotch and he was slowly wanking himself, pre-cum coating his plump hard cock.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"I think it would hurt," I said, truthfully. I knew his cock stretched my mouth wide when we sucked each other. I couldn't imagine something that size going into what was supposed to be only an exit -- or at least I thought that what was intended.
But it made me very horny to think about it and my cock gave a little jump.
"Want to try," he said, reaching over, encircling my cock with his slippery hand.
"Careful," I warned. "It won't take much to put me over the edge."
"C'mon, Mikie," he crooned. "I know you want to."
I put my head back on the pillow and let the magazine fall from my hands. This would be a turning point, I realized. There would be no going back from here.
"I don't know, Teddy. I'm afraid it will hurt," I said, looking into his eyes. "What if it hurts?"
"I'll be gentle," he said. "I think we should do a few other things, first."
He slid down the bed until his mouth was at my crotch and he licked my balls then took them into his mouth and rolled them around. That felt good. Then he let them fall out and he licked underneath, behind my balls, and pushed me back so my knees were bent and my legs were up and he probed deeper with his tongue. That felt even better.
He finally lapped his way until his probing tongue caught the edge of my hole and I instinctively lifted my legs, held my knees and allowed him compete access.
I have no idea how long he rimmed me but I know I was somewhere between heaven and Nirvana as he licked, sucked, and eventually probed with his fingers, slowly opening me up for the next steps. When his middle finger got to the second knuckle, he hit something deep inside that made me want to jump, melt, shoot my load and cry out all at the same time.
"Oh, Teddy," I said, "What are you doing to me?" I groaned as he withdrew his finger and he slid up to face me. His cock throbbed against my thigh and he kissed me softly on the lips.
"Mike, I really want to try this," he said. "Do you?"
"Oh yeah," I hissed. "I want you inside of me, Teddy."
He sat up and pulled a pillow from his side of the bed and lifted my bottom and pushed the pillow underneath.
Lifting my legs, he scooted toward my crotch and I felt his cock trying to hit the spot. He dribbled spit onto the tip and he rubbed it around my hole.
"Let me help," I said, and guided his pulsing cock toward my hole. The tip found my rosebud and I held him there, enjoying the feeling of his cock in my most private place. Why hadn't we thought of this before? Why hadn't we done this before?
I let go and grabbed his buttocks and pulled him forward. The tip popped in. "Ahhhhhh!" Shit! It hurt like hell! I grabbed his hips and held him still as I adjusted my bottom so the angle would be better.
"Slowly," I instructed. "We can do it but not if you ram it in."
He held my buttocks higher and edged forward, feeling this cock sink inside about an inch. It hurt. I felt so full, like he was ramming a baseball bat into me, but I wanted more.
He pushed and I pushed back, almost as if I were taking a shit, and suddenly he was completely inside.
My ass muscles screamed in agony but I moaned loudly and held him tight. He stayed perfectly still as I waited for the pain to stop, then I used my arms to slowly rock him in and out of me.
Soon he was truly fucking me and I was fucking back. The pain had turned into blissful pleasure and every third or forth stab he hit that magic spot that made my cock jump and a huge drop of pre-cum to roll out. I had never been so hard. I had never been so close to cumming without touching myself, I had never felt so full or fulfilled. I wanted everything and I didn't want this to end.
But we were both 16 and our bodies were built for one function: sex.
Sweat poured off his upper body and dripped on my own dripping chest. Our crotches were absolutely soaked with sweat and my pre-cum. I gripped him tighter and tighter and he pumped harder, deeper and faster until the inevitable happened: we exploded, Teddy inside of me and I all over both of us.
It was a cosmic orgasm and lasted a geological era. But it ended too soon and he collapsed on top of me totally spent, dripping wet, breathing hard and absolutely limp. I thought he would crush me because I had no strength to even breath let alone bear his weight. I was ecstatic.
All too soon he slid off of me and rolled onto his back, exhaling huge gulps of air. He held my hand in his sweaty palms and rolled onto his side facing me.
“THAT was the MOST awesome thing I have ever done," he said. He leaned in and kissed me, his breath still ragged, his legs occasionally twitching as his orgasm-wracked body reset all of the circuits in his overwrought system.
I lay there almost comatose, lost in the most wonderful, blissful completeness I have ever felt. It was almost like a drug and, all these years later, I still believe it was the best sex I ever had, never equalled, always sought -- as the Germans call it "sehnsucht": an unquenchable longing for something once almost found.
His cum began running out of my puffy hole and I quickly walked to the bathroom where I let it go in the toilet. I didn't want to lose it but my body said I had no choice. I cleaned up and walked back to bed, where I turned out the light, crept under the covers and we wrapped ourselves together and fell instantly asleep.
We did it two more times that night and almost every night while I was at their house. I tried several times to be the top but found that I preferred being on the bottom. I couldn't get enough of having Teddy inside of me. We did it in the old coal cellar, in the attic, in the old servants' apartment over the garage and every night in his bed.
Cook worried about how tired we seemed and we simply told her it had been a busy term at school and we were catching up on sleep.
The day we went to Brooks Brothers in Boston for his new clothes, we even blew each other quickly in the changing room -- I think the salesman knew exactly what we were doing -- and I even sucked Teddy dry in the restroom of the B&M train just before we arrived in Prides Crossing at dusk.
I have never been hornier or more satisfied. And it would get even better.