Joaquin 2.0 Ð Part 3 Copyright © 2023 by Stimle (stimle@yahoo.com). (MM, Auth, Reluc)

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A year after the events of chapter one, Joaquin is home for Winter Break and decides to take drastic measures to get his life back on track. This is a re-edited and re-imagined version of my story `Joaquin,' which was originally published in 2008.

There are two of me. One does the right thing, one cannot see.

Standing back-to-back, who is the strong one in the last act?

Every path I take, roads I go down, choices I make, take me right between patches of light and darkness in me. *

*song lyrics from `Shadows' by Amy Grant

"You like that, Truck Boy?"

"MmmÉ unnhhh," I nod as my cheek and chin caress the stranger's cock through the fabric of his underwear.

Fingers tighten in my hair. "You want this, don't you?"

"Yes," I moan, my nose rubbing the thick smear of pre-cum that's seeping through the thin cotton.

"You need this."

I nod again and the hand on the back of my head draws me in closer, the heady aroma of sex and sweat filling my nostrils as I begin to mouth the length of his shaft.

At the same time my own briefs are tugged down and my erection, hard and slick and finally free of its confines, slaps against my abs.

Strong hands cup my ass and part my cheeks. The blunt pad of a thumb strokes over my hole and I shiver, groaning as the calloused skin teases the rim before pushing in. I begin to cum.

"Unh!"

I woke with a gasp, momentarily confused as to where I was, even as the familiar feeling in my briefs told me I'd just had a wet dream.

I sat up and looked around, blinking away the mental cobwebs. I was in my old bedroom in New Mexico. It was winter break, only three days until Christmas.

"Fuck," I mumbled Ð completely unaware that the swear just slipped out Ð and lifted the blanket to survey the `damage.' How many was this now? Four? No, five. Five?! I hadn't been home two weeks yet and I'd already had five wet dreams!

I reached over and tapped the screen of my phone, squinting to see the time; definitely too early for anybody else to be up. I slipped out of bed and went to my closet. I slid the door open and dug through my travel duffel until I found the four-pack of briefs I'd bought yesterday and stashed there. The way I was going through underwear these days was ridiculous. I'd already done my own laundry twice since I'd been home because I didn't want my mom to see the evidence.

I stepped into the hall to go to the bathroom and bumped into my dad. "Easy there, Sport," he said with a chuckle as he put his hands on my shoulders. He sniffed once and glanced down at my still-tented briefs. He raised an eyebrow and gave me a conspiratorial wink, "Don't let mom see that."

"Dad!" I whispered, mortified, my head whipping around, half-expecting to see her standing behind me.

"Ah, she's still sleeping," he said as I fled to the bathroom and locked the door. "I'm going in early today to wrap up a few things before Christmas. But don't worry Ð your secret's safe with me."

I could hear his good-natured laughter follow him down the hall as I peeled down my soiled underwear and wiped myself down. I rinsed them out, washed my hands, and slipped on the clean briefs. Back in my room, I tossed the underwear into my hamper and crawled back into bed. Settling under the covers, I thought back on the previous semester.

Ever since school started, I'd been having strange dreams. Well, it was just one dream really, always the same: I'm on my knees in front of a stranger, getting him hard with my mouth. Once he's fully erect, he pulls his dick out and slides it into my waiting mouth and fucks my face while another stranger takes me from behind.

Most of the time, I wake up before anything happens, but on a few occasions, I've had wet dreams. Not many, thankfully, because there were so many things at school Ð class, practice, Bible study, discipleship Ð to keep me accountable and my mind pure, but enough that it's embarrassing. Luckily, I'm up earlier than my roommates so they don't know what's going on, because if they did, the teasing would be merciless.

But now? Here back home, I don't have the discipline and structure I do at school, so the thoughts and that dream have taken up free residence in my head.

I realized I was hard again, and as I slipped my hand down the front of my briefs and began to stroke myself, I wondered what it all meant.

# # #

My girlfriend Danielle met me outside the restaurant after my shift ended. We were going to a Christmas party mutual friends were having but needed to pick up Rundy first. "Look at all these people," she remarked as we passed by crowds of people on our way to my Jeep. They were dressed in all colors of the rainbow, some even wearing flamboyant costumes.

"It's December Pride," I reminded her. We don't have a `gay' part of town, per se, but the historic district where the restaurant I work at is located, has always been gay friendly, and over the years December has become an unofficial celebration of gay rights. The festival had started two nights earlier and would run until Christmas Eve.

"That's right." She glanced down at my snug-fitting chinos and waggled her eyebrows. "Have you been getting a lot of tips this week?"

"I'm doing okay," I said, feeling a blush creep up my neck.

I changed into jeans and a different shirt at Rundy's and we were off. He hopped into the back seat but leaned forward between the front seats the entire drive to the party, his left arm draped over my shoulder as he talked non-stop, his breath warm on my neck and ear. He's always animated when he talks, and his hands were waving this way and that as he chattered on. Several times his fingertips idly brushed over my pec, and I found my nipples hardening into pebbled nubs. What the heck?!

Rundy must've felt it, too, because he leaned in and, in his best Austin Powers voice, said, "Do I make you horny?"

"Don't you dare," I hissed.

He huffed a warm breath into my ear and gently pinched my nipple. "Do I make you randy, baby? Yeah, do I?"

"Stop it," I squealed, my voice jumping an octave.

"What're you guys doing?" Danielle asked, looking from me to Rundy and back again.

"Giving your boyfriend a titty twister," Rundy replied matter-of-factly as he leaned in and licked the shell of my ear. A shiver ran through me and I giggled.

"You guys are such children."

Rundy blew Danielle a raspberry and grabbed my nipple again. I had a massive boner now and it was straining at the confines of my briefs, pressing awkwardly against my zipper. I had to distract myself from thinking about it or I'd be adjusting it. I hated my best friend right now.

Thankfully, that's when the GPS on my phone told me to turn onto Ash Street. I looked down at the screen and noticed we were only a couple of blocks from Cedar Street where Luc, Jesse, and TJ lived. I'd been tempted more than a few times to drive by their house since I got back from school but had resisted so far. Now it felt like fate was intervening.

I missed the turn on purpose. Danielle patted my arm. "Hey, you were supposed to turn back there," she said as Siri voiced her disapproval in the background.

"Shoot, I'm sorry. Let me turn up here." I made a left onto Cedar and guided the Jeep up the street to where the guys lived. The house was dark, and I don't know why that made me sad. I pulled into their driveway to turn around, and we were back on our way to the party.

# # #

Thankfully, my briefs were bone dry when I woke the next morning. However, I had the mother of all boners and it was currently pressing against my best friend's butt! Rundy's been sleeping over since we were kids and we've always shared a bed, but this is the first time I can remember waking up spooning him and I was mortified.

As I lay there trying not to move, let alone breathe (while at the same time willing my morning wood to go down), I remembered that Rundy could sleep through Armageddon Ð heck, he'd once fallen asleep in school and slept through a fire drill! I gently lifted the arm that was curled around him and, true to form, he never stirred. The same can't be said for my boner, though.

"I don't have clean underwear," Rundy grumbled (the sleepover hadn't been planned) when he came back from the shower an hour later, his towel slung low on his hips and yesterday's undies balled up in one hand.

"You need some briefs?" I asked as I made the bed.

He scrunched up his face. "Not used ones, dude. That's gross."

"You're such a doofus," I said. I reached into my duffel and tossed him a fresh pair. "Here, these are new."

He looked at the briefs and cocked an eyebrow, "Calvin Klein? I see you've finally stepped up in the world. I'm impressed."

"Only the best for my boys," I laughed as I cupped myself through my pajama bottoms, aware that I was blushing. I tried to ignore the tingling in my belly.

He huffed another laugh and rolled his eyes. I turned away when he dropped his towel but couldn't help staring at his reflection in the mirror as he stepped into the briefs. He noticed me watching as he pulled them up his long legs. "Okay perv, show's over," he laughed as he reached for his jeans.

I took a deep breath and sat down at my desk. It was now or never. "Rundy? Hey. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." He'd been about to put his jeans on but stopped when he saw the look on my face. "Whoa, what's going on?"

I took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. "How do you know if something isÉ well, maybe not necessarily a sinÉ but how do you know if it's wrong?"

"First of all," he said, as he crossed the room to where I was sitting, "what are you talking about?"

"I can't really say. Not at this time."

He sat down on the bed. "Is this about you?"

"No," I lied. "It's one of the guys on the team." I had a feeling he didn't believe me, although he didn't call me out.

"Okay, is what he's doing or thinking about doing a sin?"

I thought about my answer for a few seconds. "From a certain point of viewÑ"

"No," he cut me off, "don't go all Obi-wan on me. Is it a sin or not? Yes or no?"

I paused. If I was to believe the teachings of the New Testament Ð that Jesus was the fulfillment of the Law Ð then no, gay sex wasn't a sin. I shook my head. "No," I said slowly, "it's not a sin."

"But it's against the school's code of conduct," Rundy surmised correctly.

I nodded. "Yes."

"So, this guyÉ your friendÑ"

"Teammate."

He looked at me and I knew he didn't believe me. "Teammate. Whatever. This guy. He's being, what, tempted?"

"Yes! That's it! That's it exactly! He's being tempted!" It was so obvious, and I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it earlier. The dream, the thoughts I'd been havingÉ it had been right in front of me the whole time! It was Jesus being tempted by the Devil in the Wilderness! The realization was an epiphany, and I felt a palpable sense of relief washing over me.

Rundy was still talking, and I quickly tuned back in, "And whatever he's being tempted by isn't a sin."

"No."

"But it's against the school's rules or their code."

I nodded and picked my next words carefully. "Yes. But he says his choices aren't hurting anybody. So, if nobody's being hurt, how is it wrong? Why does it even matter?"

"You tell me; you're the theologian."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said defensively.

"It means you're the one going to the Christian college, Joaquin. Don't you take all kinds of religious classes? Don't you have chapel and Bible studies?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm an expert," I snapped.

"And I am?" he shot back, but then the line of his shoulders relaxed, and he gave me a small smile. "Look, you want my advice?"

I nodded.

"Sometimes you just have to get stuff out of your system."

"That's it?"

He shrugged. "Hey, it works."

"It works? What do you mean, it works?" I was confused. "What're you talking about."

He sighed heavily and flopped onto his back, arms splayed out over his head, hazel eyes squeezed shut, and I suddenly found it hard to keep from looking at his long, lean body sprawled out on my bed. The chiseled pecs, the tufts of hair under his arms, the bulge in his briefsÉ

Oh my gosh! Why was I staring at my best friend like this? This was a test, wasn't it? Did Jesus ever have it this bad when he was being tempted by Satan?

I needed to look away before Rundy caught me staring, but it was like I was in some kind of tractor beam or gravitational pull.

He lifted his head but didn't meet my eyes and I could see he was biting the inside of his cheek.

I don't know how it happened, but what had started out being about me had suddenly become about Rundy.

"Dude." I leaned forward in my chair and put my hand on his knee. "Rundy. What's going on? Talk to me."

He didn't move or say anything for a long time, and I didn't remove my hand.

"Okay," he said finally, rubbing his eyes before running both hands through his short blonde hair. "I should've talked to you about this at the time, but you weren't here, you know?"

"That's bull," I said, pulling my hand back and crossing my arms. "I don't have to physically be here for you to talk to me."

"I know that dummy," he said, shaking his head. "That not what I meant, though. You were hereÉ but you weren't."

He wasn't making sense. "What're you talking about? I was here but I wasn't?"

He sat up on his elbows and let his head fall back for a second. "The end of August. I wanted to talk to you before you went back to school, but all of a sudden you were all super-focused on the Lord and, well, I wasn't." He gave me a self-conscious smile as he shrugged one shoulder. "I was afraid you'd think less of me."

The end of August. Time stopped and my mind went back to the afternoon with Luc, Jesse, and TJ. I shuddered and almost hugged myself as I remembered the events of that day.

I must've had some kind of look on my face because Rundy flopped back down and groaned. "Oh man, I knew you were gonna get like that."

"Like what?" I protested. "I didn't say anything."

He was quiet for several long seconds before he finally sat up. "You know how we made that pact at Bible camp the summer before freshman year?"

"Yeah, we pledged we weren't going to smoke or drink or do drugs Ñwait, what's going on?"

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and glanced up at me. He had a bleak look on his face. "Okay, don't be mad."

"Don't be mad? Of course not."

"You gotta swear."

"Come on, it's me." He looked at me and I held my hands up again. "Okay, okay, I swear."

He held my gaze for several long seconds. "I had sex."

That was the last thing I expected to hear. "What?! When?"

"You said you weren't going to be mad."

"I'm not mad!"

"Then why are you shouting?"

I took a deep breath, let it out, and looked at him. "I'm sorry. I'm not mad. But you had sex? When?"

"Pinner's wedding. His girlfriend's friend, well, she's his wife now. Not the friend, his girlfriend. Wait, you know what I mean, right?"

I nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"We were both in the wedding party and, I dunno, I let her Ð Gina's her name Ð I let her give me a blow job."

A firestorm of emotions ran through me when he said that. I felt betrayed, let down, hurt. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, especially since Rundy and I had made that pact. I was about to read him the riot act when the realization of what I'd done and was thinking about doing hit me like a slap in the face.

"But then I felt guilty about it," Rundy continued.

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "At the time. Well, and for a while after, too, I guess. I mean, I was never gonna see her again and I always thought I was ever only going to have sex with the girl I got married to, and then not until our wedding night."

"What changed that night?"

He shrugged. "All the stuff on TV and movies. The media. You know how they say a blow job isn't really sex. I guess I started to believe all that crap. Started to think like you Ð your teammate, I mean." He looked at me and I didn't look away. "You know, nobody got hurt so what's the big deal, right?"

I winced and contemplated coming clean, telling him what had happened a year ago and then again at the end of August. Telling him about the dreams I'd been having since then and the overwhelming desires I was being tempted with. Maybe he was right. Maybe I needed to get it out of my system.

I steeled myself, sat up straight, and opened my mouth to confess. But what came out instead was, "What was it like?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

"Oh dude," Rundy said. His voice had a dreamy quality to it and his eyes were wide as he told me. "We got one of those party busses for after the rehearsal dinner. Gina had really big tits and was wearing a low-cut shirt and they were practically popping out. The bus was dark, and the music was pumping. She'd been drinking some Ð they all were, except me Ð and she started rubbing her boobs against my arm, and it was, really, wow. Her hand was on my thigh, and I didn't even realize she'd been moving it higher until she was squeezing my boner through my pants. Damn but I was hard. She started kissing on my neck andÉ I dunno, the next thing I know, my pants and briefs are at my knees, and she's got my dick in her mouth and my hands are in her hair pushing her head downÉ"

"Yeah? And?"

He leaned toward me and whispered, "I think I saw God!"

I couldn't help but chuckle when he said that, and it seemed to break some of the tension. He smiled back at me and shrugged. Neither of us said anything for a long time.

Rundy's description of his blow job had me worked up and I thought back to that afternoon in the back of the truck with Jack. How he had taken my dick in his hand and then slid the whole thing in his mouth. I still remember him looking up at me when he pulled off that first time, making slurping noises like a kid sucking on a popsicle, and how we never broke eye contact when he started to lick up and down the length. I remembered literally shaking as he tongued me, how it was like nothing I'd ever felt before, and how I asked him to continue: "Please sir, more." How, with those three little words, I gave myself to him Ð body, mind, and spirit Ð surrendering completely to the sins of the flesh. But funny thing, it didn't feel like sin; it felt like pleasure, and I wanted more. And if I was being honest with myself, I'd been wanting more ever since that day.

For a year I'd apparently repressed most of the memories of that afternoon, but now it was like there were tiny leaks in the dam that had walled off what had happened, and I was starting to remember, and those memories were overloading my senses.

I thought about what Rundy had said a few minutes earlier, about only having sex with the person you marry, and I thought back to the encounters I'd had with Jack and with Luc, TJ, and JesseÉ None of those times was sex with a person I was going to marry. Heck, none of them was sex with a woman, and I was definitely going to marry a woman, soÉ was it technically even premarital sex?

As I mulled that over, I couldn't get the thought of Rundy getting a blow job out of my mind, and suddenly I was hard. When I glanced up, it looked like Rundy's dick was tenting his briefs, too, but he didn't seem to be aware. I reached for one of the pillows that was lying next to him and casually placed it on my lap.

"Anyway," he muttered, grabbing his jeans as he stood. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "If you ever need a wingman or partner in crime, maybe I can help out because it sucks to go through stuff by yourself. Maybe we need a new pact, or maybe just update the old one. Maybe instead of not doing those things, we agree to do them together. To get them out of our system."

His brief-covered crotch was a foot away from my face and I was suddenly parched, my mouth dyer than the Chihuahuan Desert. Thoughts of mouthing him through those briefs began to play on a loop in my head. The idea of sucking and slobbering my way up and down the length of his shaft was making my head spin. His dick fucking my mouthÉ Oh God, he was so big! I looked up at him, wide-eyed. He was still talking, oblivious to my distress.

"But I'm not giving you a blow job," he said with a laugh. "Maybe a squeezer, but not a blowie."

I made a squeaking noise and my jaw dropped.

"Boys! Breakfast in five minutes!" Mom called as she walked by my door, giving it a sharp rap.

I jumped up, still holding the pillow over my crotch, and fled toward the door. "I need to take a shower!"

# # #

Rundy and I hung out for most of the day and even helped my mom make Christmas cookies. She was elated having `both my boys' home, and any earlier tension or awkwardness between Rundy and me had been forgotten.

"I might need to work late," I told my mom when I got ready for work later. "A couple of people have been sick."

"You're in college now, Sweetheart," she said as she handed a foil-wrapped platter of Christmas cookies to Rundy. "You don't need to account for your whereabouts."

I dropped Rundy off at his house and went inside to say hello to his parents and sisters. Twenty minutes later he walked me out to my Jeep and surprised me by pulling me into a big hug.

"I meant what I said before," he told me, arms wrapped tightly around me.

I smiled. "That you'll give me a squeezer?"

"Ass."

# # #

The dinner rush was over and I was working in the lounge when two men came in. I recognized them immediately because they'd been in a few nights this week, twice in my section.

They were probably in their mid-forties, right around my dad's age, and handsome. There was a ruggedness about them that made me think they were ranchers. They looked like cowboys and definitely carried themselves like they were cowboys. Ross was a couple of inches taller than me and had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a salt-and-pepper Van Dyke style beard. Van was my height, clean-shaven with blond hair streaked with silver, and bright blue eyes.

Apparently they'd taken some kind of interest in me because I noticed them looking my way several times, and I wondered if they were gay. Maybe they were a couple.

They were in my section again, and I thought it would be a nice gesture to buy them a round of drinks. I grabbed a serving tray and walked over to the bar.

Dillon, one of the owners and the person who'd hired me, was tending bar and smiled as I approached.

"Joaquin," he greeted me warmly. He was wiping down the back bar and I leaned against one of the high-back stools, waiting for him to finish. "I thought yesterday was your last night. Going to Durango or something for Christmas?"

"No, tonight's my last night," I replied. "And yeah, I'm going to Durango with my girlfriend and her family, but not until New Years. And then it's back to school."

"Ah, cool." He tossed the rag into the sink and leaned onto the bar. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and I couldn't help but notice the tattoos that covered his right arm. "You guys go to some kind of Bible college, right?"

"We do." I looked down at his tattoos again and missed what he said next. "Um, sorry," I said. "What was that?"

He laughed. "I said, what can I do ya for?"

"Oh, yeah." I tilted my head in the direction of my section and slid my wallet from my pocket. "I want to buy a round for the guys at table eight."

He looked over my shoulder to where I indicated and grinned. "Oh, Van and Ross. That's nice of you."

I handed him my credit card and gave him the drink order. "They've been good customers. I think they've been in every night this week."

"Yeah, they come for Pride every year," he said as he prepared their drinks. "They're great guys."

"They seem like it," I agreed as I put the cocktails onto the tray along with a couple of napkins and coasters and waited for Dillon to run my card.

I signed the slip and headed over to my section. Well, that answered that question. They were definitely gay, and a couple. They were huddled together, intently watching something on one of their phones and didn't notice my approach. I picked up one of the drinks from the tray and was about to lean in to set it down when I heard one of them say, "It's Truck Boy, trust me."

I stopped dead. What the heck?! I squinted at the screen and, sure enough, it was me and that darn video!

I wasn't sure if I should be ticked off or what, but then I had another epiphany: maybe this was meant to be! I remembered how Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane the night he was arrested. He'd conquered the flesh through earnest prayer and intense, willful submission to God's plan, but prayer didn't seem to be working too well for me these days.

`My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.'

Unless I drink itÉ

This cupÉ

Rundy's words echoed in my head: `Sometimes you just have to get stuff out of your system.'

I couldn't believe the solution was right in front of me! I remembered the words of the old Michael W. Smith song, Hand of Providence' and knew this was fate: Oh, the Hand of Providence is guiding us through choices that we make. Oh, the Hand of Providence is reaching out to help us on our way.'

I decided to go for it. If I played my cards right, this could turn into an opportunity to get all these thoughts and urges out of my system!

I cleared my throat. "Good evening," I said as I stepped around the table, a big smile fixed on my face. "Welcome back."

I obviously shocked them because they both jumped about a foot. Ross dropped the phone and cursed as it clattered onto the table. He grabbed it and slid it into his pocket as Van reached for his menu. They both stumbled over their words as they greeted me, and it was clear that they were wondering if I'd seen or heard anything. I decided to play dumb.

"It's nice to see you again," I said pleasantly and set the drinks onto the table. Ross put his hand on my arm. "We didn't order these."

"They're on me," I said. "Tanqueray and tonic with two limes for Van, and Jameson and Ginger for you, Ross. Is that right?"

His smile stretched from ear to ear. "Yes, thank youÉ um, it's Joaquin, right?"

I returned his smile. "Yes. And you're welcome. Are you ready to order or should I come back in a minute?"

They placed their orders and because it was slow, I was able to stop by and chat a few times while they ate. I talked about school and Danielle, and it turned out that I was right about them being ranchers.

"I had a feeling you were cowboys," I said as I cleared away their dishes and set down the bill, not missing the look they exchanged.

"Why's that?" Van asked.

"You look rugged."

"You like rugged, huh?"

I shrugged.

"Are you working late?" Ross asked as he pulled his wallet from his pocket.

I looked at my watch. "No, I'm off in about half an hour."

"We're going to the festival if you'd like to join us. That is, if you don't have any other plans."

I thought about it for a few seconds. This was going better than I had expected. It had to be providence! "Sure," I said. "I don't have anything going on tonight, and I've never been. Could be fun."

"Could be," Van agreed, grinning.

"If you like, we can wait until you're off and walk over," Ross offered.

"Oh, I need to change," I said, looking down at my outfit self-consciously. "These pants are a little tight."

Van leaned back in his chair and looked me up and down. "They look fine from where I'm sitting."

I blushed and lowered my lashes. "Thank you, but I think I'd be more comfortable if I wore jeans. I can meet you in an hour if that's not too late?"

"Not at all," Ross said. "Why don't we meet at the main pavilion? It's smack in the center of the park and you can't miss it."

"Maybe after, we can go back to our hotel," Van added.

"Sounds good," I said, my cheeks reddening as soon as I realized what I'd said.

# # #

I might have broken a few traffic laws getting home.

Was this happening? More importantly, did I want this to happen? I deliberately avoided thinking about it because I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

I showered, pulled on clean briefs, and then stood in front of my open closet trying to figure out what to wear. I don't know why the thought of getting this out of my system had me so aroused, but my briefs felt a size too small and when I looked in the mirror, I was shocked to see how much they were bulging. My dick was jutting up and to the left, leaking and getting them all wet with pre-cum. What the heck? Maybe if I jerked off real fastÉ

No! I couldn't give in to that desire. It was one thing to have a wet dream Ð those I couldn't control Ð but it was a whole other thing to masturbate. That was a choice, and I was better than that.

Running into Van and Ross the way I had was pure luck, but I figured divine intervention was needed for my current predicament. Resisting the urge to touch myself, I knelt next to my bed and said a quick prayer.

I crossed myself when I finished and climbed to my feet. I didn't want to go out with damp, sticky underwear, so I put on a fresh pair. I decided on distressed black skinny jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and my favorite Thursday Boots.

I was slipping into my brown denim jacket when my phone dinged with a text. It was Danielle. `Do you want to come over?'

`Can't. Have to work late,' I typed back, wincing at the lie as I tucked the phone into my back pocket.

# # #

I parked in an underground lot and walked the three blocks to the Pride festival. I felt a little self-conscious, what with being by myself, let alone being straight, but everybody seemed nice and normal, a far cry from the perverts and sodomites I'd been warned about growing up.

I found the main pavilion easily, spotting Van and Ross right away. They saw me and waved me over.

"What'll you have?" Ross said, pointing toward the bar. "They have a full bar and a few specialty drinks. You want anything?

"Oh, um, I don't drink," I said.

"You don't? Really?" He glanced at Ross and then they both looked at me like I had three heads.

I laughed. "Yes, really. I'm a Christian and I'm an athlete on scholarship at a Christian college."

"So drinking is a sin?" Ross asked.

"No, butÑ

"I see. So, you're not twenty-one."

"No, I am. My birthday was a few weeks ago."

"Then let's celebrate."

"I don't know."

Van reached into his pants pocket. "Do you want an edible instead?"

"A what? Oh, gosh no, I don't do drugs."

He laughed. "It's legal and one isn't going to do a lot. It'll help you relax, if anything."

"Um, I don't know."

He took my hand and pressed some kind of gummy into it. "Live a little," he said.

I looked down at the candy in my hand. It WAS legal, and would one really hurt that much? I told myself to quit thinking about it and tossed it into my mouth.

We walked through the festival, stopping at various booths. Boy, there were a lot of sex toys! I had no idea what most of them were, but just looking at them made me hard!

Ross bought churros and hot chocolate. I took a sip and tasted cinnamon. I raised my eyebrows.

"Fireball," he said.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Will it help?"

I took another drink.

By the time I finished my hot chocolate it felt a little like I was floating. It was actually kind of freeing.

"Our hotel's just across the street," Van said, nudging my arm. "Did you want to come up?

"Sure," I said, tossing my empty cup into a trash bin.

Their hotel was one of the many small boutique hotels that were popular in this part of town and Ross and Van greeted the two men at the front desk by name when we entered the small lobby. They returned the greetings, and I couldn't help but notice the knowing, almost appraising looks they cast my way as we entered the elevator.

"This is it," Van announced when he opened the door and flipped on the lights. "Come on in."

Their room was on the second floor and was surprisingly spacious. Floor-to-ceiling windows made up the far wall and a sliding glass door opened onto a balcony that ran the full length of the room and overlooked the park. Open French doors revealed the bedroom and bathroom.

"How about a drink?" Van asked, nodding toward a bottle of Jameson whiskey on the counter.

"Do you have any poppers?" I blurted.

"Oh shit," Van spluttered nervously.

"What was that?" Ross said, looking shocked.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I asked, looking from him to Van. "I mean, that's why I'm here, right? I saw you watching that video, so you know I'm Truck Boy."

"Damn, I knew he saw us!" Van said as he took a sip of whiskey.

"Hold on," Ross said as he sat down next to me. "If you're a Christian and you have a girlfriend, why are you here?"

"I think I'll take that drink now," I said to Van.

"I'll have one too," Ross said.

Two minutes later we were settled on the comfortable sofa with drinks. My first Jameson and Ginger and gone down easy. The second was going down even easier.

"Easy there," Ross cautioned, putting his hand on my arm. "You should pace yourself."

"I don't remember that video," I rushed out. "Well, I didn't, not at first. Remember it, that is. But now. Well, it happened a year ago." I was rambling so I stopped and took a deep breath. I finished my drink and told them what I remembered of that day.

"Shit," Ross said. I shrugged.

When I told them about Luc, TJ, and Jesse, they looked stunned. Ross's eyes were wide and Van's jaw had dropped open.

"And now I've been having dreams."

"Dreams?" Van asked. "What kind dreams?"

"UmÉ" I bit my lower lip. "Weird dreams."

"Sex dreams?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, well, mostly just one." I told them about my recurring dream of being down on my knees, my face buried in some anonymous man's crotch, licking and sucking, of being fingered and then fucked.

"Holy fucking shit," Van said slowly.

"Yeah, and I keep thinking about it," I said. "The dream, not the video. Well, yeah, the video, too. The stuff that happened andÉ"

"And?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "Look, I'm not gay, not that there's anything wrong with that, but like I said, it happened and now I can't stop thinking about it, and I think maybe I want more? Maybe if I do more stuff then maybe I can get it out of my system?"

"Get it out of your system?"

"Yeah, I was talking to Rundy this morning Ð that's my best friend Ð and that's what he said. He said sometimes you just have to get stuff out of your system."

"Wait," Ross said, "your best friend told you that you should what, go out and have a gay threesome?"

"I wanna meet this friend!" Van said. "You think he'd join us?"

"No," I spluttered. "He doesn't know about what happened or that I'm even here. But I think what he said makes a lot of sense."

"That sometimes you just have to get stuff out of your system?" Ross said.

"Yeah."

"And what, you think maybe we can help?"

I turned and looked at him and then at Van, took another deep breath, and nodded. "Yes."

"You think that by us fucking you Ð that IS what you're talking about Ð that you're going to get it out of your system."

It was a statement, not a question. Even so, I nodded. "But I think I need to be drunk first."

Ross looked at Van and nodded. Van went to the fridge and took out a bottle of Gatorade and filled my glass about halfway.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"If you're going to be drinking, you need to stay hydrated," he explained.

"Good idea." I downed the Gatorade in one long swallow.

"Oh, and Joaquin?" Ross said with a wink. "Yeah, we have poppers."

I zipped up, flushed the toilet, and washed my hands before stumbling back into the living room and flopping onto the couch. "Is it hot in here," I asked, pulling at the neck of my t-shirt, "because it feels hot."

Ross laughed. "Why don't you take your jacket off?"

"Oh, yeah. Duh." I tried to shrug out of my jacket but couldn't get it off while sitting. When I stood, I must've got up too fast because I was dizzy all of a sudden.

"Whoa, easy there," Van said, grabbing hold of me so I didn't overbalance and helping me out of my jacket.

The alcohol had apparently kicked in because I was feeling buzzed and floaty and very chatty. "Am I drunk, Van? Because I think I might be drunk."

"Oh, you're something," he said as he draped my jacket over the back of a chair. "Better?"

"A little."

"Let's go outside," Van suggested. "It's cooler out there."

It was a nice night, but a little cold, so they lit the gas patio heaters and in a couple of minutes it was perfect.

Their room overlooked the park and the views were awesome. You could see all the way to the historic district and I could even pick out the restaurant. The Pride festival was in full swing, and below us, a line of people streamed past, going to and from the festivities.

Ross stood behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder. "Nice, huh?" he said, his lips next to my ear, breath was warm on my neck. He ran one hand down my arm and let it rest on my hip a few seconds before he slid it under my shirt and began to softly caress my belly. His touch felt nice, like warm sun on my skin, and I leaned back against his solid frame, sighing as he continued to rub my flat stomach.

"Does this feel good?" he asked, and the sensation of his whiskers on my neck and cheek caused me to shiver. I nodded, too blissed out to talk.

Van joined us and put a glass to my mouth. I mumbled thanks and took a drink. The bubbles from the ginger ale tickled my nose and I giggled. But the drink was cold and refreshing and I drank deeply. A few drops spilled over my lips and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

Both of Ross's hands were under my shirt now, roaming freely over my chest and abs as he pushed the shirt up under my armpits. He cupped my pecs with his hands and began to play with my nipples, teasing them into hard points.

My skin felt electric and I sighed again, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder as a feeling of joy swept over me. It was like the first time an ocean wave had washed over me, and I felt awash in contentment. I could feel his touches through every cell in my body. I moaned again, dimly aware of the mounting arousal in my briefs.

I heard a noise, a kind of low murmuring, and when I opened my eyes, I saw that a small crowd had formed on the sidewalk below the balcony and were looking up at us.

Ross tugged my shirt up and I automatically lifted my arms to let him pull it off as an excited cry of "Strip him!" rang out from the crowd below.

He pinched one nipple and then the other, alternating back and forth. "Ohhhh," I moaned lowly. As I pushed my chest out to meet his fingers, a cloudy memory of another time when my nipples had been played with floated into my thoughts and I wondered what Ross's mouth on them would feel like.

His other hand dipped below the waist of my jeans and I felt him play with the elastic band of my underwear, his fingernails brushing delicately over the tip of my penis through my tight cotton briefs. I could feel my dick come to life and I should've been freaking out, but it was as if a spell had been cast on me and instead, I relaxed even further back into him.

As the crowd continued their encouragement, he got more aggressive and adventurous with his hands, running them up my inner thighs and squeezing my erection through my jeans. It felt incredible.

He cupped me through the black denim and stroked his thumb up and down the length of my shaft. I gasped and thrust into his touch.

Emboldened by the crowd, Ross began to play with my zipper, inching it down playfully and then tugging it back up. Down and then up again. Down and up. Unzipping further and further on each pass. Finally, he unzipped me all the way and pulled the denim material wide, revealing my gleaming white briefs.

The crowd clapped and cheered, but they really went wild when he slid his hand through my open fly and cupped me through my briefs. "Oh fuck," I gasped.

More cries of, "Strip him! Strip him!" sounded below and I trembled when his whiskers grazed the delicate skin of my neck.

He slipped his hand out of my fly, unbuttoned my jeans, and spread the flaps open, exposing my briefs Ð and boner Ð to the crowd below. They began to applaud and whistle, and I basked in the adulation.

He pushed my jeans down slowly, one inch at a time, and the crowd sounded like they were going wild. He stopped mid-thigh and cupped my balls, squeezing them gently as he rolled my sac around in the palm of his hand. At the same time, he ran his thumb up and down the length of my hard dick, and once again, I thrust into his touch, hungry for more.

He ran his hands over the front of my briefs, his fingers lightly feathering my erection through the tightly stretched cotton until my cock was practically dancing in my briefs.

"Oh," I moaned, pushing into the light touch, my throbbing boner needing a more solid connection. He nuzzled his whiskered chin into to crook of my neck and I shuddered.

His jaw rubbed against my cheek until his lips found my ear. "Yeah, you like this, huh?" His voice was a husky rasp, low, like a cat's purr, and it rolled through me, making my dick twitch. "Are you sure you want to get this all out of your system?" he asked, circling the head of my dick with his thumb. "Good looking guy like you? Hot bodyÉ fuckÉ you could have this all the time."

I groaned and lolled my head against his shoulder. My balls were tingling and I could feel pre-cum leaking from my slit. He gently squeezed the tip of my dick before going back to playing with my nipples.

I whimpered, loving the sensation of the cool night air on my nipples, his strong but gentle hand on my cock, the way he took control. "Good boy," he whispered before he licked the shell of my ear, eliciting a giggle from me.

I was so swept away on the tide of pleasure, I didn't realize that Van had been easing my jeans down inch my inch and had now taken my them Ð along with my boots and socks Ð off, exposing me nearly completely to the approving crowd below.

I don't know how long I stood on the balcony before the crowd of cheering (and filming) bystanders, in my nearly naked state, letting two men I barely knew fondle me.

When I finally realized what was happening, a part of me recognized that I should be embarrassed to be exposed like this in a public setting and that I should cover up. But a larger part of me didn't care.

I didn't care that I was moaning and grunting as their calloused thumbs rubbed over my nipples, dipped into my belly button, and scrubbed over the tip of my erection.

I didn't care that I was leaking pre-cum so freely now and that my thin white cotton of my briefs had become nearly translucent where the flared tip of my dick was jutting out.

I didn't care when hands slid down my sides and over my abs and started playing with the waistband of my underwear.

And I didn't care when my hard dick was fished out of my briefs.

"More! More! More!" the crowd chanted. "More! More! More!"

The noise roused me from my stupor and I looked down to see Ross stroking my dick. My waistband had been tucked under my balls and I was now fully on display.

"Take them off," Van said. I flashed him a confused look and he pointed to my briefs. "Your underwear. Take them off." He turned to the crowd and began to whip his arms in large circles.

"Take them off!" the crowd chanted. "Take them off!"

My eyes went wide and I giggled as a big smile broke across my face. Ross let go of me and I gave the elastic a gentle tug.

"Take the off! Take them off!"

Ross and Van held me steady as I stripped my underwear off. The crowd was clapping and cheering wildly, and I grinned and held my briefs up like they were a prize.

"Toss them to the crowd," Van said and I flung my briefs into the crowd, watching as several guys scrambled for them. It was like throwing Mardi Gras beads, except my underwear was the beads and I was also the one flashingÉ

I looked down at the clapping, hooting crowd as Van wrapped his hand around my dick and began to jerk me off to wild shrieks of encouragement. It was so slick I thought he must've used some kind of lubricant, but I realized it was my pre-cum.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," I mumbled, the words spilling out, as he pumped me steadily. When he rolled his palm over the head of my cock, I arched my spine and I felt my eyes flutter and roll back. My mouth opened but no sound came out as my orgasm ripped through me and I began to cum.

The first shot flew high, arcing gracefully through the air before landing in the bushes dividing the hotel property from the sidewalk. The second and third streams reached nearly the same distance. I was panting hard as Van continued to stroke my cock, milking out any remaining cum.

"We'd better get you inside before you make any more of a scene," Ross advised. He wrapped his hand around my semi-hard dick and led me back into the room. The crowd, which had begun to cheer again when they saw him grab my dick, voiced their disapproval when they realized we were going inside and that the show was over.

We were barely back in the room when there was a knock on the door. Ross answered it and then laughed loudly. He opened the door wider and two guys entered the room. One looked to be a few years older than me. He was my height but had more mass. He had light brown hair buzzed short and brown eyes and was wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt and tight tan shorts. His arms were covered with tattoos. The other guy looked like he was still in high school. He was a few inches shorter than me and had dyed black hair and brown eyes. He was wearing make-up and looked more pretty than handsome.

"Is there a special prize for catching these?" he asked as he twirled a pair of white briefs around his index fingers. I recognized them as the ones I'd tossed to the crowd.

"Are you here to fuck me?" I asked, still feeling like I was on a cloud. I turned to Van, "Are they here to fuck me?"

"Well, I'm a bottom," the shorter guy said as he looked me up and down. He was dressed flamboyantly in a purple sequined t-shirt and high-cut cut-off jean shorts and had one hand on his hip. "I'm Billy, and like I said, I'm a bottom, but if you want to get fucked, Trevor here" Ð he indicated the guy he'd come with Ð "will take care of you."

"Sorry guys, but this ass is spoken for," Van intercepted, giving my butt a playful slap.

"They're not going to fuck me?"

"No, they're not going to fuck you. Well, maybe later. How about you give them a blow job?"

I looked at him blankly. "A blow job?"

"Sure."

I hesitated, brow furrowed as I tried to think through what he was saying, but I couldn't seem to line up my thoughts.

"Look," he continued as he began to rub my lower back, "think of it as something else you can get out of your system."

His logic seemed solid and I nodded in agreement. I turned to Billy and Trevor, "You guys want a blowie?"

"A blowie?" Billy giggled. "Somebody's rolling hard on Molly."

"No, my girlfriend's name is Danielle, not Molly," I said, confused. "And I don't roll on her!"

"O... M... G!!" Billy squealed. "Girlfriend? Does she know you're gay?"

"I'm not gay," I said, confused. I turned to Van and Ross. "Tell him I'm not gay!"

"You're not gay," Van chuckled. "If anything, you're a lightweight."

"I'm not a lightweight," I protested. "I'm like 185 pounds and I've got muscles!"

Van laughed so hard he doubled over. "Stop," he gasped, reaching for my arm. "Stop!"

Ross took my underwear from Billy and handed them to me. "Here, put these on first so you don't drip all over the carpet," he instructed. "You're leaking like a faucet, and I don't want to get charged extra to clean this carpet."

I took the briefs and leaned against Van to steady myself as I stepped into them. "My mom bought these," I said as I pulled them up. "Oh, waitÉ No, I bought these," I corrected. "She only buys the cheap ones from Target or Walmart. These are from Dillard's."

"OMG!" Billy trilled again, putting both hands over his mouth to stifle his giggle. "I didn't think anybody over twelve years old wore tighty whities anymore!"

Before I could protest, Van and Ross got on either side of me and eased me to my knees. Billy unzipped his cut-off jean shorts and spread the flaps. He was wearing rainbow striped low-rise briefs with Andrew Christian on the waistband. He had a huge bulge. I licked my lips, leaned in, and began nuzzling it.

"Oh fuck, that's it!" he said as he ran his fingers through my hair and then pulled me against him. He smelled musky and sweaty, like he'd been out in the sun all day. With one hand, he eased my head back a few inches and reached into his briefs. He pulled out his cock and slapped my cheeks with it. "Is this what you want?"

I leaned back slightly to get a better look. It was about six inches long and thin. I glanced up at him and then back down at his dick. It was just inches from my face and it was like I knew what to do. I opened my mouth, leaned forward, and took it all in.

It felt different than Jesse's had, TJ's too. Not as big around and not as long either. Billy cooed and ooh'd and ah'd as he slid it in and out of my mouth and tangled his fingers in my hair.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Trevor Ð Billy's friend Ð had unzipped his shorts and pushed them, along with his bright red trucks, down. His dick, which was way bigger than Billy's, sprang out. He grabbed the shaft and slowly stroked it as he watched me and Billy.

Billy's slow slides in and out turned into thrusts, and as he bucked his hips, Van got down his knees behind me. He squeezed my shoulders and then ran his hands down my back to my butt. He gave me cheeks a few pats and squeezes through my briefs and then reached between my legs to stroke a finger back and forth along the spot between my balls and my whole.

"Mmmm," I moaned at his firm, yet gentle touch. When the tip of his finger began to brush over my hole, I tensed and clenched my butt cheeks.

But he was insistent and persistent and as his fingertips danced over that strip of cloth-covered skin to tease my anal knot, I became enraptured by the sensation and gradually began to relax.

I got so caught up in the pleasure of Van's finger stroking my taint that it wasn't until the bright light of a camera flash snapped me from my reverie and I realized that Trevor has slid his dick into my mouth alongside Billy's!

"Holy shit!" Billy squeaked. "He's taking us both!"

I don't know how I did it, how I got my mouth open wide enough to fit both cocks in, but I did. I began to panic, instinctively pulling back, but Ross and Van held me in place, encouraging me to open wider.

"Hey, it's okay," Van said, his finger still stroking over my hole. "Just breathe through your nose."

I gave a quick nod of my head and tried to focus on my breathing.

"You got this," he coaxed. "That's it. Wider now."

"Maybe these will help," Ross said, and I smelled the poppers before they were even under my nose.

I don't know how I managed to keep both dicks in and inhale at the same time, but I did. Ross switched the bottle to my other nostril and I took another long sniff. "FuÉ" I moaned around the mouthful of cock.

I slumped forward but strong hands held me in place, as the two cocks pushed even deeper into my mouth. I couldn't have pulled away if I wanted because Ross and Van were behind me, holding me in place, Ross whispering something about getting it out of my system as he held the poppers in place.

"Damn," Ross said, cupping my balls, "you're leaking up a storm." He gave my sack a couple of good squeezes and then stroked his thumb up my shaft. My dick throbbed and twitched.

My briefs had gotten sloppy and I realized I needed to cum again. I reached down to stroke myself, but Van took hold of my wrist. "Uh-uh," he admonished. "Hands off."

"Your balls feel nice and full," Ross observed. "Like a cow's udder."

"Maybe we should hook him up to one of our milking machines," Ross quipped.

I moaned and that set Billy off into another fit of giggles. "Did he just moo?"

"Shit," Ross said with a laugh, "sounds like you're the one who's rolling, Billy."

"OMG," Billy squealed again, "you have no idea!"

As the two cocks battered the back of my mouth, I remembered how wrecked my throat felt in the days following the afternoon with Luc, TJ, and Jesse. I wondered if the same thing would happen here, but I told myself that if this was going to help get everything out of my system, I could and would do it. I opened even wider.

After a while though, the muscles in my jaw muscles began to get sore and tired, and I began to fidget and squirm, and felt a sense of panic rise in me.

As if that's what they'd been waiting for, Billy began to cum in my mouth as Trevor pulled out.

I'd never swallowed before Ð even in the dream Ð and I didn't know what to do. Cum quickly filled my mouth and began to dribble from the corners of my mouth.

"Here you go," Ross said. He began to gently stroke my throat as Billy continued to pump his load into my mouth. "That's it. Swallow it down. That's a good boy."

Billy slipped his cock out of my mouth and I just catching my breath when Trevor stepped in front of me and lifted my chin. He was stroking his cock with this other hand and just as I opened my mouth to take him in, he began to ejaculate.

The first blast hit me square between the eyes and I flinched, turning my head. He grabbed a handful of my hair and held me in place as he continued to shoot, moving his dick back and forth, coating my entire face with cum.

When he finally stepped back, I fell forward onto all fours, breathing heavily as cum dripped from my face.

"Damn, that was impressive," Ross said, rubbing my lower back. "You really did it."

I smiled as they helped me to my feet. I looked down at my crotch and saw that I'd leaked so much that my erect dick was partially visible through the damp cotton.

"Damn," Billy giggled. "It looks like you shot your load just from getting face-fucked."

I was sitting at the small kitchenette table sipping a glass of water when Billy and Trevor left.

"I bet it feels good to get that out of your system," Van said as he sat next to me. He handed me a bottle of Gatorade. "Drink up. You're going to want to be good and hydrated for what's coming next."

"You mean I'm going to get fucked?"

"Yes, Joaquin. You're going to get fucked."

I smiled widely, so pleased with myself, excited that it was finally going to happen. The decision to get this all out of my system was turning out to be the smartest thing I'd ever done. I couldn't wait to put this all behind me and get on with living my best life. I thought of Danielle and the little velvet box I had at the bottom of my travel duffel and smiled again.

Ten minutes later, I stumbled into the bedroom ahead of Ross and Van, giggling as I dove headfirst onto the bed. I rolled onto my back. I felt like I saw floating. Disconnected.

"Look at you," Van remarked, "on your back like a good bitch."

"So eager to get this all out of your system, I see." I nodded, my grin getting bigger, and I giggled again. Boy, was I ever drunk!

"Not too soon, hopefully," Van said as he pulled me to a sitting position. He swiped his finger over the tip of my dick, scooping up a pearl of the pre-cum that had formed there, and stuck it in my mouth. I began to suck on it. "Shit, those lips were made for sucking," he said as he slid the finger in and out. I blushed as I suckled, and felt my dick gave a small twitch.

"That's right," he encouraged as a second finger joined the first and I continued to suck, "get that tongue in there. Oh yeahÉ"

"Mmm," I moaned around the fingers sawing in and out of my mouth, my tongue swirling around them, drool and slobber dribbling down from the corner of my mouth.

"So, I assume you and your girlfriend haven't slept together yet?" Ross asked as he sat next to me.

I nodded as I continued to suck on Van's fingers.

"Except you've been fucked by how many guys now?"

I furrowed my brows and turned my head to look at him, but a gentle tweak to my nipple brought me back front and center. "And you sucked how many cocks?" he continued.

Another head turn. Another titty twister.

I tried to pull off Van's fingers to ask Ross what he was trying to say, but he put the bottle of poppers to my nose and, as if I was on autopilot, I inhaled.

The bottle was moved to the other nostril and I sniffed again. Two more hits on each side and I was flying so high I didn't even realize that Van had eased me onto a stack of pillows and was straddling my chest, the ropey, corded muscles of his thighs pinning my arms to my upper body.

His cock was pointed straight at my face. The head was big and round, shining with pre-cum. It looked smooth as glass. I opened my mouth and he slid it in slowly. I gagged slightly when I felt it hit the back of my mouth.

When I had to breathe, I pulled back but realized he was holding me in place, his hand cupping the back of my head. Even feeling as floaty as I was, I began to panic and tried to jerk free from his hold.

"No, no," he said, his voice soft but firm as his eyes met mine. "Look at me. That's right. Easy now."

I nodded and tried to relax. Finally, when I didn't think I could take any more, he released me and I pulled off, gasping and taking in deep lungs full of air as I wiped my pre-cum and split-slicked lips on my shoulder.

My relief was short-lived though because the poppers were put back to my nose and, as if on autopilot, I inhaled once again, even more deeply. When the bottle was pulled away, Van shoved his dick back into my mouth and this time I took it down to the root.

He held my head with both hands and began to fuck my face, his dick pumping in and out of my mouth as I gagged and slurped, pre-cum and drool spilling over my lips to run down my chin.

"Getting it all out of your system?"

I nodded and he continued his assault on my mouth.

The bed dipped and Ross sat next to me. With Van still straddling me, I couldn't see what he was doing.

"Knees up," he ordered as he nudged my legs. I obeyed and flinched slightly when he took my dick in one of his hands, the lubricant on his palm cool on my hot flesh.

He began to slowly stroke my dick with one hand as he gently pushed my knees apart. His other hand slipped between my spread legs and I flinched again when a lube-coated finger slid over my taint toward my hole.

"Mn fuhhÉ" I moaned as the blunt tip of his finger tickled the knot of my anus.

"You like?"

I nodded. "Yuh phn."

He began to trace slow circles around my hole, pressing the center every few seconds. As Van continued fucking my mouth, Ross played with my hole, teasing the spasming knot. He slicked his finger once again but this time when he pressed the center, he kept pressing until it slid deep inside my clenching hole.

I spluttered and gasped around Van's cock.

Before I knew what happened, Ross two fingers inside me, twisting and turning and opening me up. I moaned at the gentle torture and sucked Van's fingers harder.

"That should do it," Ross said after a while. He grabbed my ankles and pulled my legs up into a wide vee formation.

At the same time, Van pulled his cock out of my mouth and slid off me.

Ross ran the slicked-up head of his cock over my taint and let it rest against my hole. I felt my pucker flutter and I blushed again. He continued to playfully slap his dick against my upturned ass and I was surprised to hear myself whimper as I began to wiggle my butt.

Ross laughed again and I thought he was going to continue playing with my hole when he shoved his cock into me.

"Fuck!" I screamed, arching my back as he pierced me. Although he'd stretched me out, it was still a shock to be penetrated so forcefully and completely. He pulled out slowly and then slammed back in, causing me to cry out again. He did this a few more times and suddenly I found myself grinding back onto his cock.

My dick was fully erect and bobbed up and down with every thrust of his cock into me, slapping against my eight-pack and spattering my chest, neck, and chin with pre-cum.

"That's right," he grunted, his thrusts quick and powerful, balls slapping my ass. My fingers clawed at the sheets, holding tight, bracing for the fuck I'd been waiting for him to deliver. "You know what to do."

His thrusts were quick, powerful, and deep, and his sack slapped my ass in a tap-tap-tap repetition. I don't know how long this went on when he suddenly stopped, his cock buried balls deep in my ass. I moaned my displeasure.

"I bet up until now you've just been fucked fast and hard," he said as he leaned over me, spreading my legs even further apart, so his body was almost pressed against mine. "Well, you've been missing out."

And then he was fucking me again. This time, though, instead of the hard, almost punishing thrusts I was anticipating, he began to move in long, almost leisurely strokes, as if he had all the time in the world.

At one point, he eased all the way back into me in one long, smooth stroke, until I felt his pubic hair against my butt. He rotated his hips or something and started to pull back out, just as slowly, until the head of his cock was just inside of me. Then he pushed my legs further back until they were almost resting on my shoulders before he sank back into me and began a slow and steady pump.

The sensation was mind blowing and more than once I opened my mouth to cry out, but nothing came out.

He fucked me slowly like that for several long minutes. When he changed the angle of his thrusts, I was surprised by the guttural, almost animal sounds I made as I pushed back into him.

"Yeah, when you were in the back of that truck you knew what to do," he said as he looked into my eyes. "Sure, you can claim you were drugged or drunk or whatever, but everybody saw your ass grinding back on that trucker's dick like it was second nature to you."

I shook my head in negation. "No," I moaned as he quickened his pace.

"And look at you just a few minutes ago. You took both those cocks and I bet you'd have taken on the whole festival if we'd let them up. You can't get enough. Even now you're pushing your sweet ass back onto Ross's dick, fucking yourself."

I shook my head in negation. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. That just because it felt good it didn't mean I wanted it. I mean if gay sex didn't feel good, gay guys wouldn't be doing it, right? And so, yeah, I wanted to tell him that it felt good, but I was just getting it out of my system. That this was it: one and done.

I opened my mouth to tell him exactly that, when his cock hit my prostate and I swear I saw the glory of the Lord Ð the Shekinah glory Ð flash before my very eyes.

"Oh!" I cried out in a mix of pain, pleasure, and surprise as my dick began to leak a thin stream of pre-cum. He nailed me there on his next three strokes and I felt as if I'd been transported to heaven.

When I came back to earth, I tried to tell him again, but once more he rang that bell and what came out of my mouth instead was, "Oh fuck yeah, right there!"

He gave a quick snap of his hips. "Right there?"

"Yeah," I grunted with a nod, my voice a rasp. "Do it again."

He thrust again and suddenly there were sparks behind my eyes.

"Oh God," I whined, "again!"

"I see you know what that is," Van said, his brow arched.

"My bitch button," I panted.

"Your bitch button," Ross laughed. "Somebody's educated your hole."

"PleaseÉ"

Ross pushed into me again, fast-fast-fast, and then slow. "FuuuuccckkkÉ" My voice was a plaintive wail and I felt drool spill over lips and dribble down my chin. "What're you doing to me?"

He continued the slow fucking, his cock sliding in and out of my well-used hole in long, languorous strokes. Each time it dragged across my prostate, sparks skittered up and down my spine. As the pleasurable sensations coursed through my body, I realized I was crying out in pleasure. It started out as a low, keening sob, but soon crescendoed into moans of pure ecstasy.

Van put the poppers to my nose and I immediately snorted. Willingly and deeply. I lost count of how many hits he forced into each nostril as Ross continued his slow, steady thrusts in and out. I was flying high when Van began to speak.

"You talked all night about how you just needed to get this out of your system," he said, his voice a low and seductive purr. He had my briefs in one hand and was dousing them with poppers. He looked down at me. "But here you are, on your back with your legs up, surrendering your ass. That's not getting it out of your system, Joaquin, that's embracing who you really are."

I shook my head no and opened my mouth to protest, but Ross hit that magic spot again, and when I cried out, Van covered my nose and mouth with my popper-soaked underwear. He cupped them in his hand like they were a gas mask and held them in place for several seconds. The smell of the chemical mixed with semen and sweat was a potent combination and I found myself inhaling even more deeply.

He removed the underwear and locked his gaze on mine. "Maybe what you really need to do is get all that Christian good boy shit out of your system." He laughed and pressed the briefs back to my face.

"FuckÉ" I moaned, sighing as the heady scent of cum mixed with poppers swept through me again.

"Oh, hell yeah," I heard Ross say.

Van lifted the underwear from my face and continued. "Guys like you always say you're just getting it out of your system. But what guys like you don't realize is that you're not getting anything out of your system. Guys like you are repressed and tonight you're finally recognizing that this is who you really are. That this is what you really need. What you really want. This is who you will always be, deep down inside, for life. This is your true nature."

I shook my head as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. What was he doing? My brows furrowed as I tried to concentrate but he gave me another whiff of my briefs and my mind blanked out.

"You just keep on thinking that you're getting this out of your system," he continued, "and that tomorrow you'll be somehow `cured' or whatever it is you think is going to happen. But if I were a betting man, I'd wager there's gonna be more nights like this in your future."

And suddenly I was cumming.

The first shot made an arc over my head, hitting the wall behind me. The second, third, and each subsequent blast rocketed up my chest to my neck and chin.

"Fuck yeah, that's hot," a new voice said, cutting through my muddled haze. I dragged my eyes open. Did I know that voice?

"Hey, how long have you been there?" Ross asked as he pulled out of me. He sounded amused.

"Long enough," the voice replied. Yeah, I definitely knew that voice, but Ð Recognition flared and I gasped. I whipped my head around to see Dillon Ð my boss Ð leaning against the doorway, arms folded across his chest. He'd changed into a tight black t-shirt, faded jeans that looked painted on, and black lace-up motorcycle boots. He had a big smile on his face. "Hey there, JoaquinÉ Truck Boy."

Truck Boy. Oh. Fuck.

He must've seen something in my eyes because he smirked as he pushed off the jamb and walked towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yeah, they showed me the video earlier this week. So, it really is you, isn't it." My cock twitched and I felt my cheeks redden in a blush. I gulped.

"Glad you could make it," Van said.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." His grin morphed into a leer as he looked down at me. "I could hear you from the park," he continued, chuckling as he turned me onto my back, manhandling me as if I was a rag doll. I watched, open-mouthed, as he casually stripped off his t-shirt, revealing the full-sleeve tattoo on his arm as well as one of a large bird of prey on his shoulder. When he opened his pants and pushed them down, my eyes were so drawn to the huge bulge in his black briefs that I barely noticed the tattoos that adorned his left leg.

He pulled me into a sitting position, my eyes never moving from his crotch. "You want this?" he asked teasingly, cupping my chin and tilting my head back so I was looking straight up into his eyes. I couldn't read his expression, but when he released his hold, my gaze moved immediately back to that wide expanse of black cotton pulled tautly across his jutting erection. My eyes were riveted to it as he palmed himself, gripping his erection and lewdly squeezing it.

I watched wordlessly for several long seconds, my mouth opening and closing, nothing coming out. He laughed again and then peeled the briefs down. His dick sprang out and seemed to hover just inches from my face. It was at least eight inches long, thick, and curved with a big fat helmet of a head. His nut sack hung down between his muscular thighs and I could see that he trimmed his pubic hairs Ð manscaping, I think is what Rundy calls it. He smelled like sweat and musk, like he'd been at the gym but hadn't showered afterward, and I inhaled deeply.

He shoved his briefs and pants the rest of the way down and stepped out of them, dick and balls swinging free, before bending over to rummage through his pockets. He came up moments later holding a condom and flashing a brilliant smile.

I continued to stare, mesmerized, as he gave his dick a couple of long strokes. I licked my lips and he laughed. "Eager, aren't you?"

He rolled the condom onto his long, thick dick and then slicked it up with a lubricant. He stepped between my legs and I opened my mouth in anticipation, but he placed a calloused palm against my chest and pushed me back onto the mattress. I yelped when he grabbed my ankles and dragged my butt to the edge of the bed, but I didn't resist, nor did I struggle when he lifted my legs so high my ass popped off the mattress, exposing my hole. Then, without ceremony or additional prep, he shoved into me.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out as his balls slapped against my ass. He pulled out quickly only to thrust in again, harder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I screamed. My voice cracked and changed to a cry.

"Oh yeah," he grunted, and I tensed against him as the force of a third, even more fierce thrust drove deep into me, burying himself completely. "Even after that fuck you're so tight." And then, dispensing with any further pleasantries, he began to fuck me.

"Oh Christ! Oh God! Oh fuck!" I ground out as he slammed into me, my eyes locked onto his face as he pummeled my ass mercilessly.

"Such language," he said, his tone mocking. "What happened to that good Christian boy I hired? The one who always invited me to church?" He bent over me, so close our chests were nearly touching, and said into my ear, "I've wanted to tap your ass since the first night you showed up in those tight pants. If I'd known then what you were really afterÉ Well, fuckÉ I'd have been to every service!"

He stood, hitched my legs higher, and drove back in, burrowing even deeper.

"AwwÉ FUCK!" I wailed, dragging the swear out into five or six syllables and clutching the sheets as the fat head of his dick raked over my prostate. "Oh GodÉ ohÉ ohÉ OHHH!!"

"You love this don't you?" he snarled as he found his rhythm, his hips thrusting in and out like pistons. I nodded as I choked back a sob and begged for more. Begged him to go harder and deeper. Begged him to never stop.

On and on it went. In and out, in and out, in and out. Every time he pulled back, I'd clench down and every time he pushed back in, I'd cry out when he hit my bitch button. My eyes were crossed and I was drooling as I arched my back, pushed my ass back, and ground onto him.

"Yeah, come on," he coaxed, nudging my gland yet again, starting another chain reaction of shivers and shudders that ran up and down from my hole to the base of my neck and back. "They haven't heard you on the other side of the park yet."

Only then did I realize that the slider to the balcony was wide open and even though we were far enough in the room that nobody could see us, apparently everybody in a three-block radius was getting an earful.

Dillon lowered my legs slightly and, frightened he was going to pull out, I reached wildly for him, arms holding tightly as I wrapped my legs around his body. He hitched me up again, lifting me off the bed, spun around and barreled into the wall, knocking the breath out of me.

My arms dropped and as I caught my breath, he carried me back to the bed and drove back into me.

"Don't stop," I gasped as he found his rhythm again, hips pumping away, "don't stop!"

After a few minutes a wicked smile spread across his face and his gleaming eyes met mine. "You know what would be really hot? A threesome." My eyes widened and he continued. "No, not with your girl. With that buddy of yours. Rundy."

I groaned at the mention of Rundy's name and felt my cock twitch.

He noticed and his smirk slid into a knowing smile. "That do it for you?" he asked conspiratorially as he leaned forward and gripped my flanks. "Yeah, that boy's got an ass on him. Wonder if it's as sweet as yours."

He took my right wrist and placed it on my dick. I moaned and wrapped it around my shaft. I began to stroke.

He laughed. "So, the idea of me fucking you and your buddy gets you off?"

I was jacking off furiously now as he continued to thrust into me, and although I'd cum not that long ago, I felt another orgasm build and crest, breaking for the surface. What the heck? Why was the thought of Dillon with me and Rundy wreaking so much havoc in my mind?

"Or," Dillon said, another hard thrust pulling me back to the present, "maybe you want your buddy to fuck youÑ"

And suddenly I was cumming again, ejaculating all over my face. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!"

Dillon laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. After what seemed like forever, my dick stopped shooting and he pulled out. I whimpered at the sudden feeling of emptiness as my load dripped down my face.

Van stepped into view and leaned over me. He wiped my face with my cum-soaked briefs, smearing it more than anything, and said something to Dillon that I didn't catch. Dillon's eyes went wide as he and Van whispered back and forth for a few more seconds.

He looked down at me. "You need to Ð what did you say, Van Ð get it out of your system? Is that it?"

Van nodded. I gulped.

"Well, fuck if you're not a greedy whore." He grabbed my hips and flipped me roughly onto my stomach. "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before," he said his voice a low rumble as he leaned in close and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back. "I'm going to fuck you like you need to be fucked. Like you want to be fucked."

I scrambled up to my hands and knees and yelped when he shoved into me. He grabbed my wrists and I faceplanted onto the mattress, butt still in the air, nose burrowed into the rumpled bedsheets. Then, still holding my wrists, he pulled my arms tautly behind me and roughly entered me.

"Oh God! Oh God! OhÉ GOD!!" I cried as he jackhammered into me. It was a hard and brutal fuck and it was the most incredible feeling I'd ever experienced.

It wasn't gentle and I continued to moan and wail as he pounded my ass, fucking me harder than I'd ever been fucked before.

"Is this what you want?" he bit out between bruising strokes. I nodded. "I can't hear you."

"YesÉ" I moaned.

"What's that?"

"Yes!" I screamed as his cock hit my prostate and a shockwave rippled through me.

"What is it you want?"

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Harder!!!"

My body bounced off the mattress with each punishing thrust and I began to moan loudly as I pushed back into him, the muscles of my ass contracting around this thick, pulsing shaft.

The bed was jerking so hard that the wood floor squeaked loudly beneath it and the shade on the bedside lamp bobbed back and forth, causing shadows to bounce wildly off the walls.

I turned my head to the side and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that covered one of the closet doors, watching in detached disbelief as his sheathed cock flashed in and out of my ass, moving faster and faster, his strokes harder and harder. I was mesmerized.

At that moment Ross stepped into view. He had my wadded-up briefs in one hand and a bottle of poppers in the other. The still-wet semen on the underwear glistened under the glow of the lamp light, and it looked as if somebody had dumped more loads of cum onto them. Ross poured some of the poppers onto the soiled white cotton and pressed them to my nose. "That's right," he said, ruffling my hair as I took deep breaths, "get it all out of your system."

"Oh fuck, I don't know if that's disgusting or hot," Dillon said as Ross wedged the briefs between my face and the mattress. The cooling cum was slick on my face, but I didn't care because poppers smelled like happy.

I don't know how long Dillon fucked me. His stamina was unbelievable, though, and although my ass and arms were sore, I wanted more.

When he finally came, his roar reverberated throughout the room, and I felt the condom swell as his pulsing cock emptied into it. The shudders of his body rippled through me, and I cried out as well.

He let go of my arms and I collapsed onto my side, my chest heaving. He pulled out with a grunt. "Next?"

My eyes shot open Ð NEXT?!

I was still spinning from the poppers, but I was aware that several people had entered the room. I recognized some of them Ð a couple of busboys from the restaurant, the hotel desk clerk Ð but I was so blissed out from the fuck, drooling onto my soiled briefs, they could've been Santa Claus and his elves, and I wouldn't have known the difference.

For the next couple of hours I was fucked by what seemed like a parade of men.

The desk clerk, a handsome forty-something Latino, had me bent over the arm of the couch at one point, going on and on about how nice and tight my ass was as he railed me. I lost track of time as fucked me senseless, moaning as I drooled onto the cushions. He pulled out, stripped off the condom, and ejaculated on my lower back before cleaning up and returning to his post.

One of the busboys, a blonde gym bro named Chad who I'd worked out with on a number of occasions, took his place. He didn't last too long before he shot his load with a loud "fuck yeah, man!" and delivering a blistering crack to my ass.

Trent, the other busboy, was next. He had my briefs in one hand and his dick in the other, stroking it while bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting while Chad discarded his condom and tucked his dick back into his briefs. I was surprised to see him because he'd come to church and Bible study with me and Rundy a few times.

He pushed the underwear against my face before he thrust roughly into me. He didn't last much longer than Chad had. They high-fived and fist-bumped as they grabbed beers from the fridge and waited for another turn, passing a bottle of poppers back and forth.

Ross pulled me to my feet and led me by my still-hard dick to the large floor-to-ceiling window. "We didn't get a chance to finish earlier," he said as he turned me so I was facing the window, pressing me against it and holding my arms over my head as he fucked me long and deep. I moaned and cried out in pleasure, my leaking cock smearing the window with pre-cum.

"Whatever it costs to clean this room will be worth it," he said when he finished.

Dillon fucked me two more times. The last time it was just me, Ross, Van, and Dillon left in the room. Ross and Van lifted me into a sitting position and settled me dead center onto the head of Dillon's shaft.

"Oh, Christ." His voice was deep, guttural as his hips thrust up, neatly impaling me with his massive cock.

A helpless sound of pleasure escaped me as my eyes rolled up, lids fluttering. The slide was easy, my body used to accommodating his by this point. Ross and Van guided my body up and down several times until I started to ride Ð as they called it Ð Dillon on my own.

"It looks like he's getting turned out, not getting it out of his system," Ross said.

I wanted to know what that meant Ð getting turned out Ð but at the moment I was so caught up in the thrill of bouncing up and down on Dillon's thick, rigid cock, that the only thing that could come from my mouth were moans of pure pleasure.

"See what I mean?"

"Come on, be a good boy and play with your titties," Dillon said, stroking my thighs as Van held poppers to my nose.

"Come on," he coaxed again, "play with your titties for daddy."

A tide of shame stained my face as I slid my hands up my abs to my chest and began to thumb my nipples.

"No, no," he admonished, his voice firm but gentle, "pinch them. Get your fingers wet. Here, like this." He reached up for my hand and pulled it down, putting my index finger and thumb into his mouth. When they were wet and slick, he let go of them. "Go on now, Truck Boy, play with your titties."

"Oh fuck," I sighed as I rolled a nipple between my thumb and index finger. My cock began to tingle and I reached down and grabbed it.

"Oh yeah, your cock, too. Work that fucker."

The blush drifted from my face and I began to stroke myself in earnest, fisting the length of my hard dick as I pinched and plucked at my nipples.

"That's right, Truck Boy," Dillon said, "play with your cock and titties for daddy"

I soon became lost in the pleasure of fucking myself on Dillon's cock as I masturbated, my moans and cries filling the room as I rode him like he was a mechanical bull. At times I felt like I was outside my body watching my body writhe and undulate as I debased myself in the carnal pleasures of the flesh. But I was getting it out of my system.

Climax came quickly to my over-sensitized body and it was only a matter of minutes before my cock began to shoot jets of hot, sticky cum that arced up and splashed down onto Dillon's chest. A moment later, Dillon came as well, a flood of wet heat filling me to overflowing.

I passed out.

# # #

It was dawn when I woke, rose-pink light just visible through the open windows. I sat up, unsure of where I was for several long moments.

One thing I was sure of though, was I was lying in a pool of cum. Not again!

The room was empty and I was alone in the bed. I turned my head and was surprised to see my underwear wadded up on the pillow next to me. They reeked of cum andÉ poppers? What the heck?!

I slid out of bed, aware of a sensation in my backside. It wasn't pain, not really. In fact, it was the opposite: it was pleasure. And then everything came rushing back in a kaleidoscope of images and sensations.

I remembered everything.

E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g

Oh fuck.

I leapt gingerly to my feet, grabbed my briefs, and stepped into them, wincing at the clammy feeling of still-drying cum. I caught sight of myself in the mirror as I pulled them the rest of the way up: the front of the briefs, once a bright and snowy white, was dominated by a huge, yellow-tinged spot. I brushed my fingertips over the stained area and lifted them to my nose.

I stumbled into the living room. Ross and Van were on the balcony, along with Dillon, drinking coffee and smoking. They didn't see me as I stalked about searching for the rest of my clothes.

I found them in a pile next to the couch and dressed as quickly as I could. I was pulling on my jeans when it dawned on me that not the cum in my briefs were mine. I nearly gagged at the realization. This too shall pass, this too shall pass, I told myself as I buttoned my jeans and stepped into my boots.

I pulled on my t-shirt and jacket and looked around for my wallet and keys. They were on the counter where I'd left them, along with my phone, and I scooped them up quietly, pocketing them as I slipped out of the room.

I walked briskly through the hall to the elevator and as I pressed the button for the lobby, noticed that my t-shirt was on inside-out and backwards. "Great," I mumbled as I stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby. I was slipping my jacket off when the elevator dinged, the car lurched to a stop, and the door slid open. I hurriedly stepped out into the lobby and walked smack dab into somebody.

"Sorry," I mumbled, looking up as I stepped back. An attractive Latino man who looked to be in his forties stood in front of me. He wore a nametag and I realized he was a hotel employee.

"Looks like you were in a hurry, young man," he said as he tugged playfully at the tag of my inside-out, backward t-shirt. His voice sounded familiar and I suddenly realized why: he'd been in the room last night! Visions of being bent over the arm of the couch flashed before me. Oh no...

He was still talking and what he said next pulled me back to the present, "And what do we have here?" he said, his voice still light and amused, "Tsk, tsk, tsk." I felt his hand on my crotch and looked down in surprise to see that my fly was open and he was zipping it up. He gave my crotch a gentle pat. "There, now that's better," he said with a wink. "We can't have you exposing yourself to strangers."

"Th-th-thanks," I stuttered as I stumbled around him and made my way toward the exit.

"Good morning, Sir. Can I call a cab for you?" a voice from the front desk inquired, and when I turned to decline, I was shocked to see it was somebody else who'd been in the room last night and who had fucked me. Oh my God! Was this what a walk of shame was?

For some reason, the thought made my dick twitch.

"No thank you," I mumbled in reply, my face crimson, as I looked down at the floor in front of me and picked up my pace.

I exited through the sliding door and the cool morning air felt good. I took several deep breaths as I began the walk to the parking garage to get my Jeep.

# # #

It was quiet when I arrived home, but I knew it wouldn't be like this for long. It was Christmas Eve Day and that was always a long day in the Kangas household.

Glad to not run into my dad again, I stripped out of my clothes and shoved them under my bed. I didn't want to risk my mom coming in to do laundry and seeing that mess!

I showered and dressed, ignoring the bruising on my hips and flanks as well as the slight twitch in my half-hard dick when I pulled clean briefs on. I adjusted myself; typical morning wood, that's all it was, I told myself, even as Ross's words from the night before came back to me, "embracing who you really are."

I dismissed the thought. Whatever. I'd beat this. I reached into my travel duffel and found the small black velvet box I'd tucked into one of the small, zippered compartments. I opened it and looked at the ring inside. Today was the day. I had survived my own personal night in the Garden, and despite what Ross had said, it was out of my system, and I was ready to move on.