This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. If you are under 18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story. This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.
I was still mostly asleep when movement from the opposite side of the bed woke me. I opened my eyes and in the semi-darkness of the bedroom, they feasted on the glorious sight of the sculptured orbs of Ty's ass moving enticingly towards the bathroom. Obviously he was answering nature's early morning call.
Thinking of his beautiful butt reminded me of how much I'd enjoyed ravaging it late the previous night, pistoning myself in and out of it as a drilling rig might search for oil. The quest was successful, and after 30 minutes of exquisite exploration, the spurting started; not the `liquid gold' the oil companies seek, but something far more valuable to me and Ty.
Listened to Ty's steady stream of piss hitting the bowl, the memory of last night flooded my mind with erotic images and quickly increased the blood flow to my cock.
I was lying on my side as Ty climbed back into bed and he quickly spooned with me, his undeflated morning wood nudging my left ass cheek. I opened my eyes again and glanced at the clock; it was just gone 7.20, a good hour before George was due to arrive with our breakfast.
I moved slightly and Ty rolled on to his back. I couldn't help the smile when I noticed how urgently his hard- on was elevating the single sheet that covered us; if Ty was a Boy Scout and this was a tent-pitching competition, he would surely win a square knot for his uniform! For me, this was too good an opportunity to let pass.
I lifted myself out of bed, careful not to wake him, and took a leak myself. While in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth, gargled, dabbed a little cologne and lubed my ass before sliding back into bed. Carefully I pulled back the sheet and feasted my eyes on the magnificent column of flesh that rose so proudly from his wiry bush.
Is the penis not one of God's greatest creations? Attached to Ty Hill, it bordered on sacred. I leaned in and drew breath, lightly blowing on it. It twitched, but Ty remained asleep. I flicked the head of it with the tip of my tongue and he flinched, but still he didn't open his eyes.
Opening my mouth, I drew his swollen glans in, wrapped my lips under his rim and started to gently suck him. I was watching his face and yes, that made his eyes open! I was rewarded with a noise, somewhere between a sigh and a moan.
I slid my mouth the full length of his shaft which responded by swelling even further, stretching the sides of my mouth to their limit. When Ty was truly turned on, smoking his dick was a challenge, even for a gifted cocksucker like me.
I concentrated on breathing through my nose as I began to fellate him in earnest, curling my tongue around his shaft on each downward plunge. He was certainly wide awake now, running his fingers through my hair and squirming beneath me, making sure no inch of his mighty tool was missing out. As I moved my head up and down, feasting on his fuck stick, my right hand gently roamed his thigh, eventually coming to a stop as it cupped his twin boys.
With a long groan, Ty pressed his hand against the back of my head as my nose nestled in his pubic hair, holding me still with his entire length in my mouth, the flared head lodged in my throat. It was difficult to breath, but I understood his need and shared in his pleasure.
As I pulled back upwards, he instinctively lifted his ass off the mattress and thrusted; his veiny monster liked being engulfed and he was determined to get back there. I had my own plan for engulfing him but for now, I let him have his way. He continued thrusting his hips towards my face, mercilessly fucking my mouth and I met him lunge for lunge, slobbering over his pulsating belly stick like a parched child would a popsicle.
I could read this guy like a book and the sounds he made had become like a second language to me. I knew what each moan meant, and I could identify the particular groan that warned a volcanic eruption was on its way. It was a cruel act, but I backed right off, dislodging his throbber from my battered throat. In his secret language, his next sound was an expression of surprise and disappointment. But not for long.
I pulled myself up to lie alongside him, kissed his wet lips passionately and, as I slipped my tongue into his mouth, I threw my right leg over his body and sat up, straddling his outstretched thighs. Still playing tonsil hockey with him, I reached behind myself and grasped his rigid man muscle and moved it around until its tip was aimed squarely at my tight, quivering target. I rubbed his cockhead over my opening, coating it with the precum he was leaking, guaranteeing a smooth entrance.
I broke our kiss and pulled my face away, smiling at his glazed expression, and in one swift movement I impaled myself on his weeping weapon and groaned at that feeling of fullness I always felt when Ty was inside me. I leaned forward over him, resting my arms on my elbows, affording me the opportunity to look deep into his eyes and to kiss his full lips. As our mouths met, Ty's hands reached around and grabbed an ass cheek each and he slowly lifted me up and then pulled his hands away, letting me slide back down his hot hard poker.
He did this two or three times more, before we started moving together, and I delighted in the guttural sounds escaping from his throat, vocal reassurance that my ass was once again pushing all his pleasure buttons. To leave no room for doubt, I began to work my ass muscles around his invading one-eyed wonder which was now buried to the balls in my guts. As I milked him with my muscles, Ty's head lolled on the pillow and I took delight in catching his lips as his head turned, and nibbling them.
I lifted myself up and dropped back down onto him slowly, enjoying the feel of his thrusts as he determinedly sank his shaft into me to the hilt. By now, Ty had his arms under my armpits and was clutching my shoulders tight as he jack-hammered me. I matched him groan for groan as I rode his thick, throbbing dick, my ass cheeks slapping against his groin, and with little warning, my own painfully hard cock started to swell. Deep in my balls I felt the onslaught. With a long, loud growl I unleashed a series of rapid-fire streams of burning white seed that splashed against Ty's face, the pillows beneath his head and the wall behind them.
That was it for Ty. I felt him expand inside me, stretching my already distended asshole to its limit. He grabbed my waist tight, pulled me hard into his groin and as he let forth a strangled series of "fucks" and "Gods", I clamped my muscles around the root of his fucker and shivered as I felt every shot of his white hot jizz spray-painting my anal walls. I couldn't help but register the sheer amount of joy juice he unloaded into my welcoming ass before expelling a long sigh and falling back flat on the mattress.
We lay together, Ty's arms wrapped around my body, as we both caught our breath. With his cock still inside me, Ty rolled me on to my side and, clinging together, began to kiss and lick me; my throat, my chin, my lips, by nose and my cheeks, his cheeky grin my greatest reward. Lying as we were, the flood of semen escaping my ass forced his cock to slide out, and as it did, he leaned in and kiss me.
"Michael Stewart," he panted. "That ass is mine, you understand?"
"I'm a lawyer!" I laughed, as I reached down and grabbed his deflating prick. "We have to make a deal. This," I said, as I squeezed his slimy slug, "is all mine!"
"Deal," he grinned, and kissed me again.
We untangled and lay looking at one another, enjoying the shared comedown from our sexual high. Showers running in other parts of the house signalled the day was now officially underway. We roused ourselves and hit the beach, bare-chested, for a long and punishing run. We were exhausted but exhilarated by the time we reached the balcony stairs, and we enjoyed a long, relaxing shower together before throwing on some clothes and adjourning to the balcony where George was about to serve breakfast for four hungry guys.
Again, a buffet of cereals and muesli, stewed and fresh fruits, muffins, toast, preserves and coffee. We talked over plans for the day and Scott mentioned that Simon's parents thought it was only fair that Scott should spend some time at their rental property as Simon had "imposed" on us for long enough. Scott's question was whether we were OK with him spending tonight and tomorrow night at Simon's house? I didn't show it, of course, but I was pleased to think that Ty and I would have some "us" time. Not that we didn't enjoy their company; we did. But we also cherished time alone.
"It's OK with me," Ty said. "Mike?"
"Fine by me too, mate," I smiled. "Maybe ask George to give you some wine and perhaps a cheese platter to give to Rob and Jill."
The boys high-fived, and before they disappeared into the kitchen I made another suggestion. "It might be good if you guys helped George with the washing. You need to strip your bed Scott, and you should warn George he'll need to use rubber gloves!"
They both chuckled before I added, "All your clothes could do with a wash too."
The boys disappeared and went about assisting George with the household chores while Ty went off to the music room and did some vocal exercises at the piano. An hour or so later, Simon and Scott rejoined me on the balcony, and spent some time looking at the boats far out at sea, through a pair of high-powered binoculars Scott had found in his wardrobe while sorting dirty laundry.
When they'd seen all they could see of our isolated coastline, they headed off, as they generally did mid- morning, to play some pool, leaving the binoculars on the decking.
Ty joined me a few minutes later to let me know Monique had emailed him `20 Questions' to answer for a magazine, as well as proofs of his most recent photo shoot with a request that he pick his favourite for use in publicity. He asked me to help with both, so we adjourned to the lounge, went through and answered the (mostly trite) questions, and picked about 12 perfect images. Fuck he's a good lookin' guy!
While George busied himself in the kitchen making lunch, Ty took a call from his record company A&R guy and they discussed ideas for the new album's first single to radio. After a lengthy discussion, they had all but agreed that the gospelly "Angels On High" should be the first official taste of the album, but not before Ty looked to me for a reassuring nod.
Ty phoned Vince to let him know the choice they'd made and I took the opportunity to ring the law firm's accountant to discuss the setting up of trust accounts for Ty's parents, and Lachlan and Scott. I outlined how they should be structured and then confirmed it all in a long email.
Before George could announce that lunch was ready, Scott and Simon were on the balcony, having followed the delicious cooking smells wafting from the kitchen. Ty and I joined them and we tucked in to gratinated hand-made potato gnocchi with Tallegio cheese, shaved pear and walnuts, along with the customary side of greens; spinach, bok choy and broccoli pan fried in oil and garlic.
George also served my chilled bottle of 2000 Bannockburn Chardonnay, which would be totally wasted on Scott and Simon. He must have noticed the momentarily look of concern on my face because he headed back to the kitchen and returned with four chilled beers, which the two boys pounced on.
After another of George's culinary triumphs, Ty told George how much he was going to miss being spoiled, to which George replied, "I've been writing out a lot of my recipes for Mr Stewart to take when we leave."
Queensland had turned on another glorious sunny day and Scott and Simon reappeared with towels, having decided to spend the afternoon on the beach. They invited us along but we suggested we might join them later on, after we'd talked through things that still needed to be resolved.
They scurried off and Ty and I moved to the lounge. I told Ty I'd decided I was going to be optimistic about my meeting with the senior partner at work, and just think positively that my transfer to Sydney would be approved. To be proactive, I thought we should draw up a list of what we'd ideally want in an inner-city house we'd both share, before putting in a call to Adam, the estate agent who'd found our coastal rental property.
It turned out to be some wish list! We agreed we'd need high fences for privacy, intercom system, camera surveillance and large front and back yards. The back yard ideally would back on to a beach. We would need at least five bedrooms, so that one could serve as a music room for Ty and another an office-cum-study for me, with spare rooms for guests. The master bedroom would be large, with an en suite, balcony or private garden and preferably, water views.
We would want a big lounge area with a separate `family room', plus a state-of-the-art kitchen (my insistence!) and an outdoor eating area. At least two bathrooms in the main house, open fireplaces if possible, ducted heating and cooling and a secure storage area either inside or outside for Ty's tour equipment.
We laughed when we both realized at the same time that we were effectively describing the house we were currently renting on the coast! We talked through furniture and agreed we'd want an unfurnished property. I would move my goods and chattels from Melbourne and we would buy whatever else was needed.
While Ty read through emails from Monique and Vince relating to his upcoming media schedule and the tour that was to follow, I called Adam and talked to him at length about what we were looking for, rattling off a list of Sydney suburbs we would consider, and those we wouldn't. He chuckled at one point and reminded me that a house like the one I was seeking in bayside Sydney would cost considerably more than what we were paying in rental on the Sunshine Coast, which was plenty. I let him know that I would be "sharing" and gave him a ballpark figure for monthly rental, which put him at ease. I left it with him on the understanding that he would email me extensive details of any property he thought was worthy of consideration.
I finished the call and grabbed two beers from the kitchen, where George was pottering around preparing what he needed for the evening meal. I went in search of Ty and found him lying in the sun on the balcony wearing only his boxers. I stripped to my boxers, pulled up a sun lounge and joined him, as we downed the cold pale ale.
Ty got up and disappeared inside to take a leak and when he returned to the balcony, he stood looking out to sea while stretching. He noticed the binoculars and I explained they belonged to the owners of the house and that Scott had found them in his wardrobe.
Ty picked them up and, just as his brother had done, adjusted the focus and looked out across the water, checking out the boats in the distance. He looked through them to the skies for a while, zeroing in on seagulls, before walking to the side of the balcony and looking down the beach. I almost jumped when he loudly exclaimed "Holy fuck!"
I jumped up and stood it his side. "What is it?" I asked.
"Scotty's giving Simon a blowjob, for fuck's sake. On the freaking beach."
He handed me the binoculars and sure enough, I could see both boys naked on the sand a fair way down the beach. Simon leaning back, resting on his elbows, legs stretched as wide as his grin. Beside him Scott bent over, cradling Simon's balls in one hand while his other had a tight grip around the base of Simon's not insubstantial cock. It was clear enough from the movement of his head that his lips were fastened tight around the spunk spout. I couldn't stifle my laugh.
"It's not funny, Mike," Ty grumbled. "They're doing it in public."
"It's a private beach," I reminded Ty. "And besides, I seem to remember sucking your cock on that very same beach earlier this week."
"Yeah, but that was at night, in the dark," Ty reasoned. "We can see the two of them plain as day."
Another reminder. "We can only see them because we're watching them with binoculars. So you can't say anything to them because that would mean we were spying."
I tried to jolly Ty along, reminding him of his first experiments with male sex around the same age as the boys we'd just watched, and how it was likely he probably couldn't get enough at first. I assured him I too was the same, especially once I'd learned to suck a dick without gagging.
I finally got a smile. "Not much has changed!" he chuckled.
I steered him into the lounge and was about to switch on the TV to take his mind off his teenage brother's sexual exploits when Ty's mobile rang. He picked it up, looked at the caller ID, and started to whoop. "Hey!" he bubbled. "It's Lachie!!"
He accepted the call and excitedly cried "Lachie! Fuck mate! I can't believe it!"
Ty could barely contain his excitement. I could obviously only hear one side of the conversation. I picked up that things had been pretty tough at the front, but that Lachlan was well. He was glad to be in relative civilization, even if only for a short while. Ty dismissed his brother's questions about how things were going with his career, although he did mention that his new album would be out in a couple of weeks and that we were getting to the end of a break on the Sunshine Coast.
"He's great mate, thanks," I heard him say. "Yeah, we're happier than ever. Finally found my prince!" I smiled. I made a mental note to knight him later with my flesh sword.
Ty's joyous expression suddenly disappeared and concern swept his face. "Lach, I'm real sorry to hear that. Seriously mate, you doing OK? Coping? What happened?"
Ty covered the mouth piece and whispered to me to get Scott back to the house, pronto. I strode on to the balcony and yelled at the top of my voice to Scott and Simon, but they obviously couldn't hear me. I picked up the binoculars and located them, only to find they'd switched places and Simon was now bobbing up and down on Scott's man meat. I called as loudly as I could, but the breeze was carrying my voice out to sea.
I picked up my mobile and called Scott, only to hear it ringing inside the house. Damn! I punched in Simon's number and thank God, he had it with him. He stopped blowing Scott long after to answer and I quickly told him that he Lachlan was on the phone and he and Scott needed to get back to the house on the double.
I watched through the eyeglasses as both boys jumped up, and without stopping to grab their towels or clothing, started sprinting along the sand, their cocks swinging from side to side. I'd put down the binoculars before they reached me and they took the balcony stairs three at a time, bouncing into the lounge. Scott started jumping all around Ty, trying to get the phone from him and Ty used his arm to keep Scott at bay. His face registered surprise and then amusement when it finally dawned on him that both boys were naked, and especially that Simon seemed completely at ease being so exposed around us.
"Lachie, Scotty's here with me and he's gonna explode if I don't put him on!" Ty called down the line. "What's that mate? Yeah, of course he's still an asshole! I'll put him on in a tic. Man, it's so fucking good to talk to you. I love ya, mate! Like a brother!" he added, cracking up. "Here's Scotty!"
Scott grabbed the phone and much the same overjoyed conversation repeated. Scott was as excited as I've ever heard him.
Lachlan obviously asked Scott if there was any news from his end, and Scott hesitated, telling him he's got some stuff to share, but it can wait until Lachlan is next home on leave. He winked at Simon.
It was obvious Scott was having difficulty hearing Lachlan and that the connection was poor. He said, "Yeah, of course I can put Mike on. "See ya Lachie! I miss you, and I love ya heaps!!"
Scott handed the phone to me and we spoke briefly, although the line was dropping out intermittently and I found it hard to catch everything Lachlan was saying. We ended the call with Lachlan telling me that Ty would fill me in on everything, and he wanted me to know he was glad Ty and I had worked out. "He loves you mate," Lachlan assured me. "Make sure you love him back." I was about to say goodbye when the line went dead.
Ty, Scott and I excitedly exchanged notes on what Lachlan had told us, although I sensed Ty wasn't sharing everything. Ty told us Lachlan had apologized for missing Ty's birthday, and explained how difficult it is to make phone calls from the front line; a combination of poor reception, a lack of electricity for chargers and the security risk. He was able to call because his outfit was stationed briefly at a base camp with power and – for the first time in a long time – running water and showers.
The conversation stopped when George walked into the room from the kitchen. While he seldom registers surprised, he was clearly amused by the sight of two naked young men carrying on a conversation with two clothed men as though nothing was unusual. "It's like walking on to the set of `Fellini Satyricon'," George quipped, although the reference was lost on Scott and Simon. "Dinner will be ready in 45 minutes," he added.
"OK guys, you both to get cleaned up," I told Scott and Simon and, with a smirk and a nod at Scott's slightly chubbed up cock I added, "Besides, I think there's some unfinished business that needs attending to!"
"Er, how do you ...," Scott started, but I cut him off by pointing to the binoculars on the balcony table.
Scott grinned. "Ya pervert!"
"You two oughta talk!" I laughed, swatting his bare ass as he scuttled past with Simon in tow.
I left Ty on the couch and checked to see what George was planning for dinner, and whether he needed help with the preparation. We went through the pantry and fridge to see what we could rustle up, and settled on a Greek-themed meal; goat and sheep's milk feta wrapped in filo pastry and baked, with a dressing of honey and sesame seeds, served with warm pita bread and a traditional Greek salad. To finish, a simple dessert of full- cream Greek yoghurt with honey and crushed walnuts.
I put two bottles of wine in the chill section of the fridge and George was insistent he had everything under control, so I returned to the lounge and sat with Ty. I asked him what Lachlan had discussed with him that had him so concerned.
"He and Maddie split up," Ty said glumly. "Poor guy. I think he was expecting they'd get married and have kids, but she ..."
He stopped mid-sentence when Scott appeared in the doorway, showered and dressed and, I dare say, probably quite relaxed. But his face showed the same concern Ty's had earlier. "Did you say Lachie and Maddie broke up?" he asked, as if he might have misheard.
"Yeah, by phone, too," Ty responded.
"Poor Lachie," Scott sighed. "I guess Maddie just got sick of him being at war, and worrying about him all the time."
"Yeah, that, but there's more to it," Ty ventured. "Remember Brad Lawler?"
"That guy from school who got busted for growing and selling dope?"
"Yeah, him. Apparently, he's clean now and he and Maddie have hooked up."
"Fuck, poor Lachie. Is he OK?"
"Well mate, not much time for him to dwell on it, with where he is and what he's facing. But you know Lach, he'll deal with it. He's a soldier."
"Guys," I tried to reassure. "It's a hard time for Lachlan right now, but at least we know he's OK and we got the chance to talk to him." Scott and Ty nodded, and George helped turn their serious mood around when he called out that dinner was about to be served. For the Hill boys, any crisis can wait when there's food on the table.
The meal was a triumph again and four plates were completely clear by the time George began cleaning up. I did smile during the meal, as George refilled wine glasses, when he admonished Scott for picking sliced of cucumber out of the salad bowl with his fingers, "especially when we know where they've been."
As soon as dinner was finished, Scott and Simon packed up their gear, said their goodbyes and headed to Simon's parents' nearby summer rental home for the next two nights.
Ty and I watched the late news on TV but I could tell Ty was preoccupied thinking about Lachlan. He'd been delighted to hear from him, of course, but the contact reminded him of the dangerous situation his brother was in on a daily basis. That, and the heartache of breaking up with his girlfriend. I thought it best not to encourage him to talk about it any more; some things, I knew, he had to work through on his own.
We said goodnight to George and went to bed. I briefly wondered whether a bit of hot sex might take Ty's mind off his worries, but decided against it. Instead, I held him in my arms and kissed his forehead. "I understand why you worry, Ty," I assured him. "But you've got to remember that this is the path Lachie chose in life, it's what he wants to do. Serve his country."
"Yeah, that's true," Ty sighed. "It's just I miss him so much."
"I know you do, but that's how it is. Keep him close by thinking of him every day."
"I do," Ty whispered, before adding "I think of you every day too. I love you."
"Right back atya, mate," I said, kissing his lips before rolling onto my back so he could rest his head on my chest. And so we slept.
The house seemed strangely empty the next morning with Scott and Simon gone. Ty and I had breakfast in bed, enjoyed some erotic foreplay that promised much more to come, and then hit the beach for a long run followed by a swim in the ocean.
Back at the house, he and I were sitting on the balcony enjoying a coffee, and with George tidying up in the bedrooms, it seemed an ideal time to float past Ty and idea I'd been mulling over since he first broached the subject of us living together in Sydney.
"Ty?" I began, "I've been thinking ..."
"That's not always a good thing!" came the smartass reply.
I laughed. "Seriously! If everything works out for us with Sydney, what do you think of asking George to come and work for us?"
Ty obviously didn't need to even think about it. "That's a great idea, Mike!" he enthused. "He could run the house and do the cooking and cleaning. Would we have to pay him, d'ya think?"
I had to do a double take before I saw that Ty was grinning.
"Well," he added, "he is almost family."
"Yeah, I was thinking that too," I replied. "He can just keep things chugging along while we do what we have to do."
For a while, we discussed the logistics involved for George and when he finally returned to the kitchen, I asked him to open some wine, organize a cheese platter, and join us on the balcony. When the moment seemed right, I approached the subject, careful to explain that the offer was tentative and entirely dependent on what resulted from my discussions at work the following week.
I'm sure Ty and I hadn't expected George to be quite as overwhelmed as he was by the offer. He seemed genuinely shocked that we would even consider making him a permanent part of our lives and yet, in his bewilderment the first thing he thought of to say was "what about my cat?"
Over the next hour, Ty and I put a convincing case to George. We reasoned that he had spent most of his working life serving other people, the vast majority of whom were oblivious to his care and helpfulness. He worked long hours for minimum pay at the Grand Apartments and while they recognised and appreciated his long tenure and his excellent work ethic it was `same old, same old', month after month, year after year.
We figured that while George was settled in his role at the Grand, he spent most days opening doors for tenants and visitors, and organizing transport for ungrateful guests too lazy to pick up a phone themselves. It was obvious that George had exceptional culinary skills and he clearly enjoyed preparing and presenting food, yet his job afforded him no opportunity to pursue that passion. We could see how much pleasure he took in feeding us boys and full-time employment with us would enable him to employ his many skills.
We were hopefully making our offer irresistible to George. We explained that if he accepted the job, he would only be looking after us and any member of our respective families who came to stay. We would better his Grand Apartments salary, he would have sick leave and annual leave, and we would throw in top medical and hospital insurance. He would be living in, we envisaged, a beautiful seaside home and he could lease his Gold Coast flat and invest the money he received in rental. And naturally, if at any time he felt the need to return, he would have his own place to go home to.
George seemed speechless, as if what he was hearing was too unreal to comprehend. Ty wound things up by saying, "We love you, George, you have to know that? It's like you're part of the family and we don't want to even think of life with having you around to look after us."
That did the trick! George became quite emotional, looking at us with tears rolling down his cheeks. "I just don't know what to say to you both," he said quietly. "You've both been so wonderful to me and I see you as the sons I never had. It has been a pleasure to care for you, but I never thought you'd want an old fusspot like me around you on a permanent basis."
I laughed. "Oh George," I asked him. "Can't you see the pivotal role you've played in all of this?"
George seemed surprised. "Me, sir?"
"George, you're the karmic link," I explained. "Think about it. I'd been to Grand Towers a few times, and you and I met the first time when I was there with Aaron. Then that all turned to shit, and the next time I visited I was on my own. You were there, looking after me as you always have. So I'm this huge Tyson Hill fan. I met his brother at the Grand, and Scott introduced me to Ty, and you knew Ty as an apartment owner. You were actually there the night Ty and I met. Then we fast forward to now, and here you are with Ty and me again. Scott's here with us, and you were here when he jumped in the deep end with Simon!"
"I never thought of it like that," George smiled.
Ty drummed his fingers on the table. "So what do you say, George," he grinned. "You gonna come and look after me and my guy, and spoil us rotten?"
"It would be an honour, Mr Hill," George said sincerely. "Truly, an honour. But I would need to be fair and give the Grand appropriate notice."
I chuckled. "It won't be straight away, George," I assured him. "I have to get the law firm to agree to my transfer and then we have to find a place. But we'll make sure you get plenty of advance warning. And we'll take care of moving you from the Coast to Sydney."
George looked momentarily worried. "What is it, George?"
"Well sir, it's just ... my cat?
Ty and I looked at each other and laughed. "The cat's welcome too, George," Ty chuckled. "What's its name?"
"Floppy," George smiled. "She's quite old now."
"Um, George?" Ty ventured. "How do think Floppy would take to an old dog called Scruffy??! ..."
The foreplay Ty and I had enjoyed at the start of our day was certainly resumed that evening, after we'd had an early dinner with George which, for a change, I cooked. Over a simple but enjoyable pasta meal, we were gradually able to draw from George more of his fascinating story. His impoverished childhood years in Sydney, his schooling, his early forays into gay sex in an era where is was hidden and heinous, and the joy he'd felt when he met and fell in love with the man of his dreams who, as we'd learned earlier, was now a well known Hollywood actor who had broken George's heart when he left Australia to further his career.
He regaled us with fascinating tales of the people he'd met and the places he'd been while they'd been together, but always the soul of discretion, he avoided naming his erstwhile lover.
By ten o'clock, the house was in darkness and Ty and I were in bed, naked and devouring each other. From our first ardent kiss to the final spurts of man chowder that shot almost simultaneously from our rigid cocks, we spent almost two hours demonstrating our mutual love in the most primitive, time-honoured way. Two tired but sexually satiated men fell asleep in each other's arms.
We were still uncovered and entwined when George woke us in the morning with a breakfast tray. Neither of us was embarrassed that we were naked in front of George, or that we had obviously sucked and fucked the night away; the sheets were evidence enough. Nor did George show any discomfort, especially since we'd revealed so much ourselves over dinner the previous evening.
"Good morning," he said chirpily, as he set the tray down. "I trust you slept well?"
Ty smirked. "Eventually, George. Eventually!"
George left us to a leisurely breakfast, after which we got the day underway with a blood-pumping run and a series of exercises on the beach. Ty filled in the time before lunch going over his media schedule, trying to work out what he'd need in the way of clothes, and practicing the guitar chords of "Angels On High", the imminent first single from `Hill Songs' and presumably the song he'd be flogging on TV chat shows.
I received a text from Adam, the boutique estate agent who was looking for a Sydney property for us, letting me know he'd emailed a preliminary list of possibilities that I could check online. He'd found a few in the suburbs we favoured; Rose Bay, Vaucluse, Potts Point and Watson's Bay, but as Ty and I went through the descriptions and photo slideshows, we dismissed them one by one. Too small, too dark, too exposed, too new, too gaudy ...
Ty was disappointed but I assured him that it was early days yet and that we'd find something just right. I sent off a quick email to Adam letting him know none of his first choices was suitable, and why. I ended the message telling him to keep in mind that the place we were renting now was exactly what we wanted, only in the Harbour City and not the Sunshine State.
I'd only just pushed `send' when the front doorbell rang. Ty and I looked at each other in surprise. Unlikely to be Scott – he texted earlier to let us know he was going for a drive to Brisbane with Simon. Jehovah's Witnesses, perhaps?
While we pondered, George answered the door. He returned with a large Air Express box delivered by a courier and addressed to "Mr and Mrs Mike Stewart".
"What the fuck??" Ty exclaimed, scratching his head, before adding, "Sorry George!"
Attached to the top of the box, along with a consignment note, was an envelope that I tore open and read before starting to laugh.
"What?" asked Ty, as George looked on in equal anticipation.
"It's from Vince!" I smirked. "He says, `You two faggots are turning into a boring married couple. Hope the address label gave you a laugh'."
Ty and George both chuckled, and I left it to Ty to open the box. To his delight, it was four shrink-wrapped pallets totalling 48 copies of his new album `Hill Songs'. He opened one immediately and gave George and me a copy, setting aside one each for Scott and Simon. "The other eight in this lot I'll send to Mum and Dad," he said. "Mum likes to have a few copies to give to the neighbours!"
We spent a happy couple of hours listening to the album, first in the lounge room and then cruising around the coast enjoying how it sounded on the car stereo. For the rest of the afternoon we lay on the beach, soaking up the sun, making out and kicking water at each other in the shallows.
Back at the house I persuaded George to sit in the lounge and enjoy and gin and tonic with Ty, and watch the news while I threw together a minced beef pie with flaky pastry, roasted potatoes, crushed turnip and mange tout. George commented me on the crispness of the mange tout and we both laughed when Ty remarked, "Oh, I thought they were snow peas".
"C'est tout aussi bien il est beau, George!" I chuckled.
"Quit with the French," Ty smirked. "I know you're saying things about me!"
"I was, mate!" I smiled. "Tell him what I said, George."
"He said that he was going to serve buns for dessert, Mr Hill," George explained straight-faced. "But then he remembered that he'd be feasting on a delicious set of buns later on, behind closed doors."
"Yeah, right!" Ty shot back, before asking me, "Is that really what you said?"
"Oh Ty," I sighed. "Je t'aime"
George was spot-on. Later that night, I did feast on a delicious set of buns, taking my time to savour them. That dish was followed by Ty's magnificent one-eyed beef fillet, which I basted liberally with saliva before he plunged it into my hot oven for a good 40 minutes. The joy he verbalised in serving it up to me was matched by the pleasure I expressed, in the filthiest words you can imagine, in consuming it.
For a long time after, we lay holding each other, silently aware that this was our last night together for quite some time. In the morning, Scott would return, we'd pack our bags and drive to the airport and somehow deal with the fact that we were scattering in different directions.
It wasn't until around one, when Ty's head was reassuringly on my chest and I could hear he was asleep, that I closed my eyes and dreamed of a time we'd all be together again. Just me and Ty, in our own home, with George and Scruffy and Floppy. And hopefully the Hill brothers as regular guests.
But the thing about sweet dreams is, they don't dare forewarn you when unimaginable tragedy is looming on the horizon ...
Always happy to have your feedback. marcusis32@live.com.au