The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must exit the story now. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers. It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without the written permission of its author.
My other works in the Nifty Archive include Unusual Christmas and Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school, First Mate and Twin Spin in gay/incest, The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters, and From Slave to Houseboy in gay/authoritarian.
E-mail comments are always welcome.
My First Year With Kevin
Chapter 17
We had left for San Diego on December 26th, and we got back home on December 29th. Frank and Denis wouldn't be home until January 4th , so we had more than a full week at home alone. We had had an early flight out of San Diego, so we got home around two in the afternoon. The weather was warm and muggy in New Orleans, and the first thing we did when we got into the house was turn on the air conditioner.
Even though Kevin and I were very much in love with one another and never wanted to be apart from one another, we still needed some privacy at times. That afternoon was one of those times. I needed to think through what had happened in San Diego, and he needed to do whatever he needed to do. After we got our stuff in from the car, we went to our own rooms and really didn't see one another until around six that evening.
I used part of that time to hand-write a letter to my mother. Here's what I wrote.
Dear Mom,
It was great to see you and to have you meet Kevin as a grown-up. I know you knew him when he was a little kid, but he's a man, now, in every sense of the word. As I told you, we're in love with one another, and I'm hoping ours will be a lifelong commitment. I'm not confident that it will be because I think Kevin has a rather strong heterosexual streak in him, but I'm hoping. Right now, though, he's my "all," and I'm his, too.
And that makes our relationship with you and Morris all the more difficult. Morris apparently hates homosexuals, or at least this homosexual, and I can't be with him, even if it means not seeing you. You know I love you, or at least I hope you know that. Kevin, I think, demonstrated he wants a relationship with you, and even with Morris. But just as Kevin couldn't tolerate violence against you in the purse snatching, he damn sure can't tolerate it against me in the beating Morris gave me. I think Kevin would have killed, or at least seriously injured, Morris if I hadn't stopped him, and he is certainly physically capable of doing so.
I hope you will find reason to come to New Orleans to visit us. I know you will be welcomed with open arms by all four of us. Denis-Dad-speaks very fondly of you, as does Frank.
Anyway, let's stay in touch.
Love,
Matt
That was a pretty lame letter, I guess, but it was how I felt at the time. I addressed the envelope to her office, put a stamp on it, and took it out to our mailbox. I figured she would get it in a week or so, maybe less.
After I wrote the letter and posted it, I checked my e-mail. I had one from Todd wishing me a merry Christmas and a good trip. I wrote back to him telling him about Christmas and about our trip. I said I hoped the four of us could get together before we went back to school.
I surfed the Web for a while, looking for personal sites of gay boys, and then I got into bed. I wasn't really tired, I didn't think, but I went to sleep in about five minutes. I didn't wake up until I heard Kevin in the shower around six.
I got up, got naked, and got in there with him.
"Hi, Babe," he said, kissing me tenderly on the lips.
"Hi," I said. "Whatcha been doing?"
"Sleeping, mostly. I checked e-mail, unpacked and put my shit away, and then I sacked out. What about you?"
"The same. Although I did write a letter to my mom. I told her I wouldn't be seeing her again with Morris, and I also said I hoped she could find some reason to come to New Orleans. That was okay, wasn't it?"
"What? About her coming here? Of course it was. She didn't seem all that homophobic to me."
"She's not. It's him."
"Yeah, the bastard. I probably would have killed him if you hadn't stopped me," he said.
"I know, Babe. That's why I did. Not because I wanted him alive; I just didn't want you in trouble."
"That's why I love you so much," he said.
We didn't bother putting on clothes. We foraged in the refrigerator for food left over from the big party, and we found a bunch. We had several drinks, and, when we went to bed, we repeated the sexual tryst we had had that morning. It was wonderful.
The next week was fabulous. We made love in just about every room of the house, and several days we just didn't bother to dress at all. We went to four movies, ate out, went down to the Quarter once, and just had a ball.
One time Kevin was standing in front of the sink in the kitchen eating a whole pineapple. He had juice from it all over his hands, running down his arms, and all over his face. He had sliced the skin off the outside and was eating it like you would an apple. He was in just his briefs. I walked up behind him and started rubbing his butt. At first he didn't say anything, but I knew he was getting turned on. I stuck my hand inside his briefs and started rubbing his asshole. I knew he loved that, and it turned him on big time.
"Are you trying to make me hard, Babe," Kevin asked.
"Of course," I replied.
"Well, you're succeeding, Matt," he said. "You want a bite of my pineapple?"
He turned around and stuck the pineapple in my face. I took a bite, and it was as sweet a pineapple as I had ever tasted. I took a second bite.
"It's good, isn't it?"
"It's wonderful," I replied.
Kevin knew I wanted sex, so he carefully guided me onto the floor of the kitchen, pineapple still in hand. He rubbed it on my chest, and then he started licking the juice off. His arms were wet and sticky up to his elbows from the thing, and his face had pineapple juice all over it, too.
The leaves of the pineapple were still on it, and he raked them across my chest. He did it very gently, and the little thorns on the leaves really turned me on. He dripped pineapple juice all over me, and he decided to clean me up with his mouth. He pulled my briefs down and off, and he flung them aside. He rubbed the flesh of the pineapple all over me, and the sticky sweetness of it really turned me on. His cock was swelling the whole time, and he pulled his own briefs off in a second.
There we were, on the kitchen floor, covered in pineapple juice, hard as the Washington Monument (and him about as long, proportionately). I had wanted to fuck him, but he got me on my back before I could protest-like I would have, anyway. He entered me. It wasn't the best fuck we had ever had, but it was far from the worse. That morning he had changed his ball-closed PA ring for a stainless steel horseshoe he had bought, and the difference was amazing. It was the same gauge as the full ring, but it had those two balls, rather than one. When he raked it across my prostate, I could hardly stand it. I didn't last more than five minutes, and I came. I was able to control my cum, but just barely. He kept pumping me and making me feel those sensations, and I came at least three more times, I think.
Kevin was having orgasms of his own all the while, but, when I came that last time, I shot my load onto my chest, and Kevin unloaded inside me.
He got some paper towels to clean us up, and we went into the den to relax and smoke. We sat very close to one another, touching, in fact, and the stickiness of the pineapple juice made it clear we needed a shower.
"How did this new ring feel inside you," he asked as I washed him. He was fiddling with it as he spoke.
"It felt fantastic. I think I got more stimulation from that one than from the other one. I'm going to get one like that so you can see what I mean."
"I've got one for you. You want to try it now?"
"Where is it," I asked.
"It's in a drawer next to the sink. Let me get it."
Without drying off, Kevin got out of the shower, got the new ring, and was back in the shower in three seconds. He got down in front of me and undid the full circle one. I didn't know if it would hurt when he took out the old one or put in the new one, but it hurt neither time. Our two new ones were also gold. Once he had it in me, he stood up and hooked his to mine.
"I'm really hooked on you," he said. "Will you be my valentine?"
I knew he was referring to those silly little valentines we used to pass out to everyone in school when we were little, and he made me laugh. I had a mental image of a fish, for some reason, getting hooked by a little boy as a little girl stood by making eyes at him.
We just stood there, our dicks caught on one another. From time to time one or other of us bounced up and down a few times, and that really was a turn-on. We both got hard just looking at each other and stimulating each others' nipples. We kissed deeply a time or two, and the closeness was incredible.
Kevin was holding me tightly at one point, licking my ear.
"I want you to fuck me," he whispered.
He unhooked our cocks and turned to face the wall. He spread his legs to give me room to get to his asshole, and I entered him. I thought the new ring felt better on me than the other one had, and Kevin's reaction to what it was doing to him inside made me know it was really stimulating his sweet spot. We fucked for a long time, and, while I didn't exactly count, I was sure Kevin came six times or more before he finally shot his load. I came several times, as well, and, as usual, each orgasm was longer and stronger than the one before it had been. We finally finished after almost an hour in the shower, and the water had started to run a little cool.
When we were dry, we went back into Kevin's room.
"Let me show you something else I bought," he said. He went to his dresser and pulled out a bag from the piercing shop. Inside the bag was a gold chain about four feet long.
"What's that for," I asked.
"Let me show you," he said.
He made me sit on his bed and got down on his haunches so that he could do something to my dick. He unscrewed one of the balls of the PA ring, slipped the end of the chain on the ring, and re-tightened the ball. He did the same to his.
"Now we're joined at the hip, sort of," he said.
"Am I always going to have to be within four feet of you," I asked facetiously.
"When we're wearing the chain, you will. Either that, or grow some more dick."
I laughed. God he was cute.
In a minute the phone rang. It was closest to me, so I answered it. It was Todd.
"What are you guys up to," he asked.
"You won't believe what my fool-boy did," I said.
"What?"
"He got us new rings, horseshoes, really, for our dick piercings. And right now we're sitting next to one another connected by four feet of chain."
"Now, what? Tell me that again."
"He's got this chain hooked to each of our dick rings. We can never be more than four feet away from one another as long as we're wearing it."
"I didn't realize you could take those rings out. That is fucking hot, man. You're making my cock swell just imagining it."
"It is pretty sexy, I grant you that. So, what's up?"
"We were wondering if y'all would like to go out tonight. We're going to do our little master-slaveboy thing, and we thought y'all might like to go."
I told Kevin what Todd had said, and he said he was all set for some more of that. I began wondering if my fella didn't have a slightly kinky side to him.
"We'd love to go," I told Todd. Where and when?"
He named a place and said to meet them around ten. "Oh, and Jonathan wants y'all to wear your chain. He said everybody will love it."
"Has he been listening," I asked Todd.
"Yes, I have been," Jonathan said. "We're on a speaker phone."
"How can we get clothes on with this thing," I asked.
"Figure it out," Jonathan said, "but please do wear it, at least for a little while."
"I'll see what Kevin says, but something tells me he'll be all for it. See you around ten."
"Jonathan wants us to wear this chain tonight."
"Oh, wow! Will you do it?"
"Yeah, I'll do it," I said. "At least this way I won't feel like some kind of monster master, like I did with the padlock."
"Cool," Kevin said.
We wore the chain, and, just as Jonathan had predicted, we were the objects of much staring. Several guys wanted to see how we were attached, and Kevin had no problem popping open the fly buttons on his jeans, pulling out his dick, and showing them. We kept the chain on for a couple of hours, but, eventually, we wanted to dance with other people, so we took it off. It was a hit, Todd won a bunch of money shooting pool, he and Kevin did that obscene dance several times, Todd came down his leg three or four times, and a good time was had by all. I noticed Todd had gotten his cock pierced, too, no doubt as a Christmas present.
The next day, when the mail came, Kevin and I both had invitations to a King Cake party on January 6th. There were identical envelopes for Denis and Frank, too.
"So what's this all about," I asked Kevin, after I had opened mine.
"It's a King Cake party, man."
"Duh. I can fucking read what it says, shithead. What the fuck is a King Cake party." We were teasing each other the same way Denis and Frank had teased each other about smoking and making out good wills and such that night at Kevin's first football game. They had said we probably did the same thing, and they had been right.
"You really don't know, do you? You really are some kind of ignorant peasant from the north, aren't you?"
"You think California is north of here, as in the 'Yankee North?' You're fucking dumber than I ever thought you were."
"Southern California is the real California, and it's part of the South, just like Louisiana and Mississippi."
"Kevin, am I going to have to beat your ass to get you to tell me what a fucking King Cake party is."
"You know damn good and well my ass is yours to do whatever the fuck you want to with, anytime you want to do it. But I'll tell you anyway. Listen carefully. Some of this might be slightly over your head. This head," he said, knocking on my forehead, "not this one," he said, grabbing my dick.
"Kevin, if you understand it, I feel sure I'll catch on in no time," I said.
He gave me a quick kiss. "You are so fucking cute," he said.
"Okay, here goes. You remember that we just had Christmas, right? You know, tree, presents, parties, Santa Claus, and all that? You do remember, don't you?"
"Come on. You're wasting my time."
"Like you've got a full calendar. Right."
"Come on, Kevin, tell me about the party, man."
"Okay. Pay attention. The official Christmas season ends, according to the Catholic Church, on January 13th, or the Sunday nearest that date. That's the baptism of Jesus and the beginning of his public ministry. Okay, when he was a little baby, three wise men, the Three Kings of Orient Are, came to see him and brought him gifts. Gold, Frankenstein, and myrrh."
"Orient Are? They were from the Orient, shithead. 'Orient' means 'east.' They were from the east."
"The song says 'Orient Are,' smartass." He started singing the song, and, once again, I was impressed by the quality of his voice.
"Kevin, it means we are three kings from the Orient, dude. Not the 'Orient Are.'" As the words were leaving my mouth, I saw that twitch in the right corner of his mouth. It was almost imperceptible, but I was sure I had seen it. "You asshole," I screamed.
"What," he asked, innocence itself. Then he broke into the famous Kevin grin.
"Fuck you," I said, laughing.
"Here? Now?"
"Please tell me about the fucking King Cake party," I whined.
"Okay, Baby. Just settle down. We don't want our panties in a wad, now do we?"
"I'll wad up your panties and shove 'em down your fucking throat if you don't tell me what this shit is all about," I said. He knew I was teasing, and there was certainly no way I could ever win a physical confrontation with that lummox. I knew it; he knew it; and he knew I knew it. "Also, wasn't the second gift frankincense?"
"Maybe so, but Frank almost never gets incensed, so I say 'Frankenstein.' Whatever. Anyway, that day is celebrated on January 6th, and it's called the Epuffany, or King's Day."
"It's called the Epiphany, not the Epuffany, asshole."
"It's shithead, and I said that just to see if you were listening."
I threw a sofa pillow at him and immediately regretted it, realizing that that could start a major tickling fight. But it didn't. He caught it in mid-air and hummed it back at me.
"Anyway, King's Day, or January 6th, is the start of the Mardi Gras season in New Orleans."
"But Mardi Gras isn't until...when? early March?"
"Yeah, but the season starts on January 6th. A King Cake is a special cake baked in an oval. It's decorated with purple, gold, and green icing, and it has a little plastic baby baked into it, to represent Baby Jesus, only most of the time they're uncut, like me."
I laughed at his cuteness.
"It's in a different place in every King Cake. You have a party and invite your friends. Usually a fairly small number of friends, although the one we've been invited to is probably going to be pretty big because it's being given by last year's king of the krewe Frank and Denis belong to. You cut the King Cake, or maybe cakes, in this case, into as many pieces as there are people at the party. Whoever gets the baby Jesus is the King (or Queen, if it's a woman). Whoever it is, picks someone of the opposite sex to be the King/Queen of the next party, which is a week away, or on the next Saturday night or something like that.
"The King and Queen of the next party have to give a King Cake party, too. They have to invite all the people at the original party, plus any of their friends or relatives who weren't at the original party. At the next party, the whole thing is repeated. The crowd keeps getting bigger and bigger every week until Mardi Gras."
"Is the icing always purple, gold, and green?"
"Yeah," he said. "Those are the Mardi Gras colors. It's got to be those colors. Frank knows the symbolism of the colors, and he's told me several times, but I don't really remember. Plus, I think different people give different meanings to the colors. Anyway, that's what a King Cake party is all about."
"So Mardi Gras is more than a one-day thing," I said.
"Oh, man. You don't even know. It's about six weeks or two months long," he said.
"So what's this crew thing all about," I asked.
"Well, we say it 'crew,' but we spell it krewe. A krewe is a group of people who organize a ball, and, in the case of Frank and Denis' krewe, a parade, too. They're the Krewe of Rex. They parade the Mardi Gras day. Their ball is that night. It's the most important parade, and Rex is given the city by the mayor for the day. Rex rules the city, and he suspends all the laws, except not really. You know what I mean. It's symbolic. The city becomes a carnival for a day, and Rex, which means 'king' in Latin, rules the city from his float. "A ball? What are you talking about?" All of that was new to me, although I did have some vague recollections of Mardi Gras from the years I lived in New Orleans before. Mostly, though, I remembered parades and costumes and people throwing stuff from the floats.
"A ball. Like what Cinderella went to. A big party, with a king and queen and court and all, and we'll be invited to a bunch of balls as call-outs."
"Okay, so what does that mean?"
"Well, Mardi Gras season coincides with the debutante season. Every krewe has a ball, and that's where the guys present their daughters. There are a lot of other deb things, too. Last year I got roped into some of them, but this year both of us are going to be overwhelmed with call-outs."
"So, what is a 'call-out,'" I asked.
"Well, it's a chance to dance with a particular girl. Let's say they plan in advance there will be ten call-out dances at the ball. There's a lot more shit that happens at balls than just dancing, but that's too detailed to explain right now. Anyway, you're a girl. You're a deb. You're a maid in a ball. You've got to come up with ten guys to be your call-outs, guys for you to dance with. You invite them to the ball, they come all dolled up in their tuxes, and, when it's their turn, they go out and dance with you. I'm sure you'll have a bunch from Newton. And so will I. You don't actually have to know the girl to be one of her call-outs. You just have to be male, dressed right, and available to be there. There is usually some kind of family connection, and, I'm here to tell you, we have more fucking family connections with lawyers and doctors and accountants and stockbrokers and general businessmen than you can imagine."
"Wow! This sounds like pretty much fun," I said. "Do they serve food and drinks at the balls?"
"Oh, yeah. Lots of both. And it's a lot of fun the first five or six times, especially at the parties after the balls. And you'll get to know a lot of the girls at the King Cake parties, too. But it's a Thursday night, you've got three tests the next day, golf or baseball practice till five that afternoon, and a ball to go to at eight or ten. Then the whole thing becomes a royal pain in the ass.
"And you've got to be dressed to the nines, clean, clean-shaven, well-groomed, and full of fun, pep, and life. I tell you, man, it's a fucking pain in the ass."
"So what if I just say 'no thank you' to some of the invitations?"
"Big mistake. No-can-do. Frank and Denis are not strict parents, but they will make both of us do this shit. Trust me on that. It's part of our role in society. Period. End of questions."
"Are we really big in, like, 'society?'"
"You poor, innocent little baby. Frank and Denis are pillars of 'society,' especially Frank, 'cause he's from here. You don't have the biggest and richest law firm in New Orleans and not be. Especially given our history here. You done married into a popular crowd, dude. That's why we bought all that tux shit. Why would you need four shirts except that you'll wear a fresh one every night? Did you think of that? And those expensive shoes? You'll be dancing your ass off in them, and they can't hurt them delicate feet of yourn. And two pairs of pants to that tux? That's so you'll have a spare when you have to send one to the cleaners 'cause your balls sweated so much in the pair from the night before."
"Am I going to like all of this," I asked. Suddenly, I felt a little overwhelmed by everything Kevin was telling me.
"I think you'll have a fabulous time, but there may be trying moments. Let me just tell you a little story.
"When I was thirteen, I got invited to my first King Cake party. I wasn't old enough to be in the ball circuit or anything, but younger kids who aren't debutantes do the same thing, I guess for the practice.
"I was really horny, then, all the time. At the first party I went to, I danced with a girl who was fifteen. It was a slow dance, and I got hard. She felt it, of course, and that was the night I lost my cherry to a woman."
"Damn. Had you been with a guy before then?"
"Nope. I didn't meet Dave until I was a sophomore, and he was the first guy I was with. At the time we met, I had a girlfriend, and I was fucking her. In fact, by then I had probably fucked ten or twelve girls."
"So, am I going to be expected to fuck girls at these things?"
"Not unless you want to."
"I don't want to," I said. My anxiety about Kevin's true gayness hit me like a forty-pound tether ball.
"Well, that's settled, then. You won't."
I thought for a few seconds before continuing.
"What about you? Will you fuck girls?"
I could have predicted his reaction. He went for his pack of cigarettes, slowly took one out, slowly lit up, and slowly released the smoke. I knew he was searching for the right thing to say.
"Matt, you know how I feel about you. Would you dump me if I did?"
It was then my turn to think, so I did the same thing Kevin had done-borrowed time. He had used the expression "married into a popular crowd" earlier, and I wondered what he had meant by "married into." After a long time, I finally spoke.
"Kevin, a minute ago you said I had 'married into a popular crowd.' What did you mean by that?"
That question made him uncomfortably quiet. After several long moments of silence, he finally spoke.
"Matt, I know we can't really get married, any more than Frank and Denis can, legally. But I sort of consider you like-I don't know-my husband? my spouse? If you don't want me messing with girls, I won't, man. Period. End of discussion. Final. Over. Finished."
I was floored by that statement. It was what I wanted, of course, but I was never sure Kevin felt that way about me. I got large tears in my eyes, which he noticed immediately.
"Please don't do that, Matt. It was just a question to get things straight between us. I won't touch another female breast as long as I live."
He had misinterpreted my tears. God, I loved him.
"You're jumping to conclusions," I said, between my sniffles and sobs.
"What do you mean, Babe," he asked.
"I'm crying because I'm happy, not because you might fuck the odd debutante. Shit, you and I have both gotten it on with Todd and those guys last summer. I'm not jealous of where you stick this thing," I said, putting my hand on his cock through his shorts.
"Soooooo, why are you so happy," he asked.
"Because, you dumbass...." I couldn't finish what I wanted to say.
He put his arms around me and snuggled and gently kissed me on my face and neck.
When I finally calmed down, I was able to communicate why I was crying.
"I'm crying because I'm so happy about what you said, Kevin."
"What'd I say?"
"What you said was, 'But I sort of consider you like-I don't know-my husband? my spouse?' I had hoped against hope that that was true, but I wasn't sure of it until just now. You've proved it over and over, especially in San Diego, but now you've said it. Oh, baby, I love you so much." I melted into another puddle of tears.
Kevin didn't know what to say, I'm sure. He hugged me to him and let me cry out my emotions. I got his shirt wet, but he cheerfully took that off when I was done with my weeping.
"I feel so dumb doing that," I said when I had finished my crying jag.
"Doing what? Wetting my shirt? You were crying. You couldn't help it."
He might have been teasing me when he said that, but I didn't notice any lip movement to suggest he was. I felt as though he totally and completely accepted me, and my love for him at that moment was overwhelming.
He knew instinctively that I needed to be in his arms, and he cradled me for a long time. The skin of his chest was warm and comforting to me without his shirt on. After a while, though, I began to hear his stomach making noises. I ignored the first two, but the third one was too loud to ignore.
"I think somebody's hungry," I said.
"Who? You?"
"Well, I could eat, no question. But you're the one making all the hungry-stomach noises."
"I'm not doing that on purpose. We don't have to move until you're ready."
Tears came to my eyes again when he said that. I fought them back hard, though. All that crying wasn't my style, and I damn sure knew it wasn't Kevin's style.
"Let's get something to eat," I said.
We went upstairs, I washed my face, Kevin took a long leak, he put on a shirt, and we went to Shoney's for lunch.
We weren't home ten minutes when the phone rang. Kevin and I both thought it would be Frank and Denis checking on us, but it was Todd.
"Hey, what's up," I asked him. I had answered the phone.
"Not a goddamn thing, and I'm bored out of my fucking gourd," he said. "What are you guys doing?"
"Nothing. Why don't you come over and we can all be bored together." I looked at Kevin and mouthed "Todd." He shook his head "yes."
"Can I," he asked.
"I wouldn't have invited you if the answer was no, now, would I?"
"Cool. Jonathan's out of town until the day after we go back to school, and I've watched all the TV I can handle."
"What about pool," I asked.
"Well, I could go out and hustle some, I guess, but I really don't feel like doing that. Plus, I've already made this month what I would ordinarily make in the next three months. Financially, I'm in good shape."
"Great. Come on over. Do you know where we live?"
"I have a general idea, but give me directions."
I put Kevin on the line for that. I had gotten to know the city pretty well, but I still wasn't sure where everything was and what was the best way to get from point A to point B.
Todd got there in thirty minutes or less. Kevin and I had been watching the Real World retrospective on MTV, and both of us were kind of dozing, off and on. We both woke up when Kevin arrived.
"Hey, man," Kevin said to Todd, as he greeted him at the front door.
"This is a really nice place," Todd said as soon as he had come into the house.
"Thanks," Kevin said.
We all went into the den, and Kevin got Cokes for all of us.
"Whatcha been doing, man," Kevin asked Todd.
"Not a fucking thing. What about you guys?"
"Kevin's been telling me about King Cake parties and Mardi Gras and all that shit. Do you do that stuff?"
"Hell, everybody does Mardi Gras to one degree or another. I've been to some King Cake parties, but not to a ball. I don't exactly move in the same social circles as you guys do."
"You can take my place anytime, man. A lot of it is fun, but a lot of it is boring as shit, too." Kevin grinned at Todd.
"I really like you guys," Todd said. "You're my only gay friends, besides Jonathan. Did you know that?"
"You told us once you didn't have any friends," I said, remembering the night of the Colton-Newton game.
"Well, that was kind of an exaggeration. I really meant I don't have any gay friends. Guys who understand me and my make-up."
"You wear make-up," Kevin asked in all seriousness.
Todd was confused for an instant, but he came back with, "I have to, man. I'm really a Negro, and a very dark one. I have to pass for white somehow."
Not to be outdone, Kevin said, "So are we, and we wear make-up, too."
"Well, I guess that's something else we have in common," Todd said.
"That, and pierced dicks. I saw yours last night, Todd," Kevin said.
"Oh, when I was shooting cum down my leg? You noticed my penis, did you?"
"Yeah, I guess that was it," Kevin replied. "Or maybe when you took a piss and I had to hold it. I don't really remember."
"You held his cock while he took a piss," I said, my naivete surfacing, once again.
"Well, somebody had to aim it into my mouth," Kevin said. "I had him handcuffed at the time."
"You fucking shithead," I said. I threw a pillow at Kevin, and he caught it in mid-air. He hurled it back at me with much greater force. All three of us laughed our asses off.
"Are you guys like this all the time," Todd asked.
"Pretty much. I'm a shithead pretty often -occasionally an asshole." Kevin grinned at me when he said that.
"He's not. He's the sweetest boy in the world. He's really an asshole much more often than he's a shithead," I said.
"I want to see your dick up close and personal, Todd. I love a pierced dick," Kevin said, changing the subject, but not really.
"You want me naked, SIR," Todd said.
"Yeah, get your ass naked, boy," Kevin replied.
"Gladly, SIR," Todd replied.
Todd stood up, took off his shirt, kicked off his shoes (they were Docksiders, and he wasn't wearing socks), undid his belt and jeans, and let the whole lot slide to the floor.
"Come here to me," Kevin barked.
Todd, the obedient slave, did as he was told.
"I want to inspect you."
"Kevin, Babe, what the fuck are you doing," I asked.
"Playing, Babe. Todd doesn't mind. In fact you like this, don't you, Todd?"
"Ye......"
"Shut the fuck up," Kevin yelled, and Todd did, immediately.
I had seen Todd naked before, but that was the first time I noticed how gorgeous his body was. He was shorter than both Kevin and me, and his olive skin seemed to glow. His nipples were like the little erasers that are on pencils, standing out from the areola about an eighth of an inch. His dick was still soft at that point, and it hung down about four inches. The ring in his dickhead was the same size as ours, and it was stainless steel. He was cut, but his dick was really beautiful, even soft.
"Are you fully healed yet," Kevin asked him. Kevin was using a rather commanding tone of voice, not one he used with me.
"Yes, SIR. Fully healed, SIR."
Kevin decided to test it and slid the jewelry back and forth in Todd's dick. His dick started to put on weight, and I knew Kevin was having a good time playing with Todd.
"Todd, I want you to stop saying 'sir' to me or to Matt, and I order you to treat us like you are our equal. You aren't, of course, you slimy piece of shit, but I want you to pretend that we are just three friends having an afternoon of fun together. You got that, boy?"
"SIR, yes SIR." Pause, beat, beat. "Yeah, Shithead, I got it."
That broke us all up.
"You're pretty fucking cute, you know that, Todd?" Kevin ruffled his hair when he said that.
"You ain't so bad yourself, man. And neither is Matt. I choose my friends wisely."
"So do we," Kevin said, and that made Todd grin broadly.
He got between us on the sofa.
"Tell me about your trip to San Diego. How'd it go?"
"Not too well, I'm afraid," I said. "We left my mom's house after like twenty-four hours. Kevin almost killed Morris, my step-father. And he got this wound." I pointed out the ugly red scar on Kevin's side when he lifted his shirt.
"Jesus Christ, I want to hear all about it," Todd said.
We told him the story, and he was shocked and amazed.
"What about your Christmas. Did you and Jonathan spend it with your parents?"
"Naw. My parents moved to Houston a couple of months ago. They agreed I could live with Jonathan so I could finish school. Jon couldn't get off for a trip, and he kind of feels awkward around my parents, anyway. It was just the two of us."
"Did you guys exchange gifts, and all," I asked.
"Of course, we did. We're lovers, man, just like you and Kevin. Y'all exchanged gifts, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but our relationship isn't exactly like you guys, you know?"
"We're lovers, man. That's our relationship. You guys express your love and affection for one another by calling each other Shithead and Asshole and stuff like that. We do the same thing. He calls me 'Boy,' and I call him 'Sir.'"
"You never use his real name," I asked.
"Well, of course I do. This whole master-slave thing is a game we play. It's a sexual turn-on for both of us. That's just the way we are."
I was beginning to understand what Todd was talking about, I thought. Our "cracking and jiving" was a way of expressing affection, and what they did was, too.
"This is real interesting and all," Kevin said, "but let's do something. You guys want to shoot some hoops?"
"Sure," Todd said. "Let's do it."
Kevin stood up and started getting undressed. He suggested Todd put his shoes back on but nothing else. I gave in to peer pressure and got naked, too.
"You boys have gotten new rings in your dicks," Todd said, taking mine into his hand.
"Yeah. Now we can hook together," Kevin said. "In fact, all three of us can, now." To prove his point, he linked the cock rings of all three of us together.
"Let's all pull back as hard as we can and see whose dick comes off first," Kevin suggested. He started pulling, and I thought for a moment he was serious. He did manage to pull hard enough to cause Todd and me to both fall on top of him. We were in the house, and Kevin knew better than to wrestle in there for fear of breaking something.
"I've got a better idea than basketball. Let's wrestle. Just like we did at sex camp, Matt. You remember?"
"Sex camp," Todd asked. It was obvious he thought it was someplace we went, like Boy Scout camp, or something.
"It was a week we spent with some other guys last summer. I'll tell you about it. In fact, I'll even show you pictures of it on the Web. It was Kevin's bullshit."
"My bullshit? Didn't you have a good time?"
"You know I did, Babe," I replied. "I meant by 'bullshit' that the concept was just more of your devilment. Hell, I had a fabulous time."
Kevin explained the rules to Todd, and he seemed to start to get hard as he listened.
"You pin the guy, stick your dick in his ass, and start fucking. But you've got to come inside him. If he throws you off before you come, the match continues."
Todd said he understood the rules.
We went out to the party house and down to the workout room in the basement. Kevin put a mat down for us, and we flipped coins to see who would go first. The first match was Todd against me. Kevin said he would referee, and the winner would be alpha male until the end of the holidays. We thoroughly lubricated everyone's asshole and cock before we started.
Kevin very carefully put Todd and me into the opening position of a wrestling match. We went at one another when Kevin counted to three and slapped the mat.
That Todd boy was strong as an ox. I got him in a hold or two, but he broke away from me in no time. Before I knew it, he had me flat on the mat on my stomach, and his cock was pushing into me. Kevin was offering play-by-play commentary, in addition to his referee duties (which were nil), and that was really making me laugh. I decided just to let Todd fuck me and to enjoy it without putting up a struggle.
Todd's dick was smaller than Kevin's, and, as an inveterate bottom, he didn't know how to use it all that well. He made me come, but it took him a while. When he finally came inside me, he let out a loud whoop that startled me. Referee Kevin declared him the winner.
We took a break to smoke and catch our breath. Kevin got us each a very cold beer from someplace in the basement, and we lounged on the side of the mat, looking at one another, talking, laughing, and having a good time hanging out together.
"When was the last time you fucked another guy, Todd," Kevin asked.
"You mean on top?"
"Yeah. Do you ever top Jonathan?"
"No, and I probably never will. I'm a sub, man. You saw how long it took me to get off. I can come in a heartbeat with a big, fat cock up my ass, but it even takes me a long time to come when I jerk off, which is almost never, anymore."
"Do you come just from being fucked," Kevin asked.
"Jesus Christ, Kevin," I said.
"What?"
"Aren't you being a little nosy," I asked.
"Todd, do you mind answering the questions I'm asking," Kevin said to Todd.
"Not a bit. Thanks for being concerned, Matt, but I really don't mind. Hell, I've been the only naked guy in a roomful of ten or more, and every one of them 'inspected' me. I have no modesty or shame. And, yes, I do come from just being fucked, Kevin."
"So do both of us, dude," Kevin replied.
After we finished our beers, it was time for the next match. We (read, Kevin) had decided that the loser of the first match would take on the guy who hadn't fought yet. That way, the last match would be between two winners. I didn't know, nor did I care, what would have happened if I had actually beaten Kevin, since by then I would have been both a loser and a winner, but that wasn't about to happen, and I knew it.
Kevin had the most amazing control over his body, especially his sexual apparatus, of anybody I have ever known. He could fuck me for thirty minutes (or be fucked that long, presumably, if I had had the ability to do it) without coming, or he could come after five or six strokes. That day he got on top of me almost immediately, entered my ass, and shot a load into me in less than five minutes.
It was time for another beer-and-smoke break to give Kevin time to recover-like he needed it.
"Todd," Kevin said, "does Jonathan ever have you masturbate while he just watches?"
"Sure. Pretty often, in fact. In some master-slave relationships, the master controls when the slave comes, but we're not into it that heavy. I also initiate sex, which is unheard of in a lot of dom-sub relationships. I keep telling y'all, it's a game we play, that's all. He really doesn't control my life."
"If I asked you to masturbate right now, would you do it," Kevin asked.
Ohhhhhh, that devious mind. Kevin wanted Todd all "comed-out" so he'd have trouble getting hard in their match that was coming up. Todd was no fool, though.
"If you beat me and become alpha male, I'll masturbate for you any time you want me to, and pretty much anywhere. For now, though, let's wait till after our match."
I laughed and punched Kevin. Todd was grinning from ear to ear.
"You little shits" was all Kevin said.
In a couple of minutes, Kevin said, "I'm ready when you are, Todd."
"Let's hit it, man. I'm ready now," Todd said.
Todd stood up, raised his joined hands high above his head, and stretched. He was a much more muscular guy than I had thought, and I wondered if he was trying to intimidate Kevin. Ironically, the alpha male would have to dominate, and that was supposedly contrary to Todd's whole personality, sexually.
They got into the starting position, and I did the countdown and slap on the mat to signal the start of the match. Kevin got Todd into a tight hold at first, but Todd somehow managed to wiggle out of it. Then he knocked Kevin flat on his face, and Todd positioned himself to enter Kevin's ass. When Kevin realized what was about to happen, he reared back and knocked Todd onto his back. Once that happened, the match was essentially over. Kevin was in Todd in a heartbeat. He pumped Todd's ass five or six times and came inside him.
Todd was still very hard when the whole thing ended, and both guys stood up.
"Well, I guess you're the alpha male around here," Todd acknowledged.
"That's right, and don't fucking forget it." Kevin spoke harshly, but it was all an act.
"So how do we act around the alpha male," Todd asked.
"You act normal, that's how." Again Kevin used the harsh voice.
Todd sort of cowed a bit, and Kevin started laughing.
Kevin gave Todd a gentle, affectionate punch on his bicep. "Come on, dude. Just be yourself. You're cute, so act it."
"Do we call you Sir," Todd asked.
"Not unless you want to. I probably won't know who the hell you're talking to if you call me that, but, if it makes you feel comfortable, do it. I'll get used to it."
"You guys ever do anything kinky," Todd asked.
"Like what," I asked. I thought we had done a few kinky things, but I wondered what his idea of kinky was.
"Oh, I don't know. Some bondage, maybe, or spanking. Maybe watersports-you know, piss play?"
"We've done some of that," Kevin responded. "We've both pissed up each other's asses."
I'm sure I blushed when he announced that. I had enjoyed it immensely, but I wasn't real interested in having other people know about it.
"Cool," Todd said. "I'd like to try that."
"Hey, why don't you spend the rest of vacation with us here," Kevin asked. "There's no point in your being home all alone. We've got the place to ourselves, and we can just stay naked and hard for another week or more."
"That sounds good to me, too," I said.
"Are you sure you won't mind," Todd asked.
"Mind? Hell, we like you, and we wouldn't have invited you if we minded," Kevin answered authoritatively.
"Cool. Then I'd love to spend the vacation with you."
"Well, that's settled."
"Do you want me to masturbate, Kevin," Todd asked.
"Not unless you just want to. I just was trying to get you to shoot before so you wouldn't get hard right away when we wrestled."
"I'll wait till later, then, okay," Todd said. "Listen, back to kink, do you ever fantasize about anything that would be considered kinky?"
"Actually, this whole slavery thing fascinates me," I said.
"Me, too," Kevin echoed. "Tell us about it."
"It's kind of hard to explain because it's really more of a mindset or way of relating to another person than it is about what we actually do," Todd said. "The main thing about it is I have surrendered myself to Jonathan. I live for his pleasure and for his pleasure alone."
"Don't you ever get any pleasure," Kevin asked.
"Well, of course I do, but my greatest pleasure comes in giving him pleasure. For example, when we make anal love, I keep from coming as long as I can to make it better for him. If I come, fine; if I don't come, that's fine, too, as long as he enjoys whatever he does to me."
"So he kind of uses you for his own pleasure without regard for you," I asked.
"I don't like the connotation of the word 'uses' because it sounds like exploitation, and it's not. I do it freely. I want him to use me for his pleasure, and that's what gives me the greatest satisfaction."
"Man, this is deep," Kevin said.
"I told you it's hard to explain," Todd replied. "Let me give you an analogy. Don't you do things to and for Matt just to give him pleasure without worrying about your own?"
"Well, sure, man. People in love do that all the time," Kevin said.
"Well, it's the same with us, only my whole purpose in life is to do that for Jon. It's not really different, except in degree."
"And y'all don't get off with him beating you and shit like that," Kevin asked.
"We would if it gave him pleasure, but it doesn't. He's a very sensitive and soft man. I mean, he might like to humiliate me sometimes in public, like making me wear that leather jockstrap when we go out, but to me that's fun. I know he gets a kick out of it, so it gives me great pleasure to do it."
"It's fascinating, you know," Kevin said. "Don't you think so, Matt?"
"Yeah, I do."
The next days went by in a blur. Kevin came up with all sorts of sex games for us to play, and we all had a great time. As alpha male, Kevin was so cute he was precious. He'd get stern all of a sudden, order us to do something, and then say "please" or "if you feel like it." We had a lot of sex, of course, but that's not all we did. We went out several times, and Kevin spent a good bit of time reading. I would have never pegged him as a reader, but he was. Three or four times we went with Todd to hustle pool, and we always came back with a wad of money in Todd's jeans. All in all, it was a great vacation.
The morning after we said goodbye to Todd, Denis and Frank came home. They were ebullient after their vacation, and we enjoyed hearing about all the plays and concerts and art exhibits they had gone to in New York. They brought each of us some really nice presents, mostly clothes, but they also brought us a state-of-the-art digital camera.
They came home on a Saturday night. Kevin spent most of the next day taking pictures of me in the nude and learning how to use the camera. The four of us went out for a quiet dinner that night.
"Are you boys ready to go back to school tomorrow," Denis asked.
"Yes, sir," Kevin said. "I am. And I think Matt is, too."
"Don't forget that party tomorrow night, guys. We're all expected to be there."
I had forgotten about the King Cake party on January 6th.
"What do we wear," I asked.
"The guys our age will wear their school uniforms," Kevin said.
"You mean, you're going to wear those jeans?" I still couldn't believe a fancy private school like Colton had jeans as a uniform.
"Yep. That way everybody will know we're still in high school, and they'll know where we go. You'll meet lots of people who are Newton alumni. That's part of the whole tradition thing."
The first day back at school was really a drag, but I heard some people talking about parties that night. The teachers seemed to understand, and we didn't have heavy assignments in any classes.
"Are you going to a party tonight," a guy in one of my classes asked me.
"Yeah. I'm supposed to. You?"
"Yeah. Which one are you going to?"
"I guess it's for the Krewe of Rex. I'm not sure what that means, exactly, though."
"Dude! Is your dad in Rex?"
"Shit, I don't know. We're all going, though. My dad, my uncle, my cousin, and me."
"They must be members, then. Damn. How'd a Yankee like you get into Rex?"
"I was born here, man. I'm no Yankee. I just grew up mostly in California."
"Oh, okay. Have fun, dude, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Oh, God, I thought. How trite. And how old fashioned. That guy really was impressed about which party I was going to that night. Damn.
Well, the party was okay, but just that. Just okay. They had some great food, which Kevin and I ate like vultures, and they had a pretty good band. I met a bunch of girls, some of them from Newton that I had never seen, and Kevin and I danced with them quite a bit.
Denis got the baby in his piece of cake, so that meant he was King of the party. He chose a queen, a bubbly lady who was at least half-lit by the time the cake-eating came around. That meant we'd have the next party.
"What if Denis gets the baby at his own party," I asked Kevin.
"Won't happen. He won't eat a piece of cake. Once you've given a party, that's it for you. No more dry, shitty-ass King Cake for you."
"Oh, okay. That makes sense. Can Frank get it?"
"Well, of course he can. Or you could. Or I could. Theoretically, we could end up having four of these fucking parties at our house. Frank and Denis would immediately go into non-stoppable orgasms, of course, but it won't happen. The odds against it are too great."
"Wanna bet? Say a blow-job?"
"You're on, cocksucker. But I might have to audition you tonight," Kevin said.
I grinned in reply.
We didn't stay much longer after the King Cake was cut, and we were home by midnight. Once we were in bed, Kevin and I talked.
"What are we supposed to do about these girls that throw themselves at us," I asked.
"Do you want to fuck them?"
"Asshole," I said, as I punched him lightly in the ribs.
"I take that as a 'no.'"
"That's a definite 'no,'" I said.
"Well, what I do is tell them I have a girlfriend that I've promised to be true to. Of course, in the last two years, I just went ahead and fucked them."
"You animal! How could you?"
"Duh. It's really pretty simple, Matt. We make out, I get hard, she gets hot, we go upstairs for privacy, she starts stroking me through my pants, I play with her titties, I finger-fuck her, I stick it in. Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, thrust, thrust, thrust, uh, uh, uh, uh, thrust, thrust, thrust-and then I come. If she's experienced, which they all are, she has come three times by then. I climb off, we light cigarettes, we get dressed, we re-join the party. It's not rocket science, man."
"But how could you feel like doing it?"
"I was horny; she was horny; we just did it."
"How many girls have you fucked, Kevin? I want to know."
"I don't know, Matt. I honestly don't know. I haven't kept a record. Sometimes I get pretty wasted at those parties, ya know."
"Are you going to do that this year, too?"
"What the fuck did I just tell you? Huh?"
"That you've fucked so many girls you can't keep track."
"Before that, asshole."
"That you're going to tell them you have a girlfriend, and you promised to be faithful to her."
"Bingo! Give this man the grand prize."
"You mean you're not going to come out to them, but you're not going to fuck them, either."
"Coming out doesn't suit me for this crowd, Matt. I've told you before I would never deny our love, but there's just no point in it with these superficial people. Nobody is going to ask you or me if we have boyfriends instead of girlfriends. Of that I'm sure. They have no right to know about our relationship. They're not people we care about. When I was bagging chicks at those parties, that's exactly what it was: bagging chicks, just like a hunter bags ducks or other game. The guys would meet outside to smoke near the end and ask how many did you bag. We just won't be in the bagging business."