Owen

Owen

Chapter 28

By Roy Reinikainen

"Are you ready for a second round?" Sam teased, sprawled across Owen. "You always were fast to reload." He propped himself up on his elbows and studied the man he'd loved for as long as he could remember. Their lovemaking had left him breathless with its intensity, just as it always had. Beneath the surface though, many things had gone unsaid. 'Are both Owen and I trying to camouflage our deepest feelings with passion?' His attention returned as Owen drew a tender line with a forefinger across his cheek, pausing only when Sam opened his mouth, trapping the finger.

"For another opportunity to play with you, my sexy stud, I'd do anything," Owen grinned, as Sam released the finger and snuggled closer, an arm draped over Owen's chest.

"You used to call me skinny," Sam teased, nuzzling Owen's neck.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? Lots of things have changed. I always thought you were both sexy and cute. Callin' you skinny was," Owen shrugged. "I was just teasing you about being slender. I guess it wasn't nice of me." Owen hesitated. "I've always loved you, Sammy." He stroked Sam's bare back. "Always . . . and forever." His voice caught preventing him from continuing.

Sam tightened his embrace, aware of the intense emotions Owen was experiencing.

"Sam . . ." Owen began.

"Shhhh," Sam murmured, only inches from Owen's ear. "I know. I know." He kissed Owen's neck. "Not now, lover. Serious thoughts are for some other time. Tonight's only for the two of us, remember? I don't want to even think about other people tonight. I've dreamt of us being together like this, in our own bed."

"Your parents', you mean," Owen laughed, tightening his embrace. "I wonder what they'd say, seein' you on top of me.

"Hmm," Sam thought, falling into Owen's playful mood. "Dad'd probably turn to Mom and exclaim what a wonderful lover I must be. 'Look how he slams Owen's butt hole with that dick of his," Dad'd say. "Owen must be likin' it. Listen to him squeal."

"He'd never use words like that," Owen chortled, "and I don't squeal." He cleared his throat. "I make manly sounds of pleasure."

"You squeal, Owen. I hate to burst your manly bubble, but," he paused. "Okay, okay, you do it in a manly voice."

"Do not! And, if you don't stop all this squealing stuff, I think I'm gonna have to spank your bare butt cheeks."

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Sam sensuously wiggled as Owen grabbed a handful of buttock muscle.

"A promise!" In a flash, Owen had scooted from where he lay, beneath Sam, and had pulled his surprised partner across his lap. "Now, we'll see who squeals," he laughed, slapping Sam's bare ass cheeks, leaving a red imprint. Sam merely flinched and writhed with pleasure, both at Owen's aggressiveness, the sharp sting of the slap, and his thickening erection, trapped against Owen's leg.

"Is that the best you can do?" he taunted, daring Owen to be even more aggressive. "Why, my old mother can spank better'n that."

"Oh yeah?" Owen slapped one cheek, then the other. On the third stroke he barely touched Sam's butt. On the fourth, Sam grunted with surprise, expecting another feather-light touch."

"M'hole, Owen," Sam squirmed, spreading his legs to give Owen better access. "Use my hole. Lick it, finger it, fuck it. Fill it up then suck it out." Sam rolled off Owen and onto the bed, where he scrambled onto his knees and spread his legs, exposing his anus and its surrounding halo of slightly darker skin. From the hole, Sam's bulging perineum met his full scrotum which swayed with each movement. Owen slapped the pink ass cheeks one last time then lapped at the smooth sweaty hole, feeling it alternately relax then tighten, as if trying to hold his tongue captive.

"On your back, stud," Owen ordered, giving Sam's butt cheeks a final slap. "I wanna see you suck yourself off as I use your asshole.

"Yessir!" Sam scrambled onto his back then rolled backwards until his knees touched his shoulders. He always loved being in this position, with his penis so close to his lips and his balls hanging loosely. Between his spread legs, he could see the slight swell of his anus. On days when he was alone, he would often suck himself off while fingering his own hole. 'There're few things better'n covering my face with my own sperm,' he thought, 'cept having Owen fucking me at the same time I shoot.'

Owen stood on the bed behind Sam. He pressed his cock downward and slowly pushed. Sam's eyes widened and he opened his mouth in a silent groan as the head of Owen's cock stretched his sphincter, lubricated by nothing more than saliva. As always, Owen loved watching his cock head stretch the tight muscle of Sam's hole. 'I may not be all that long,' he thought, 'but I'm thick enough to make sure Sammy knows I've spent some time in him.'

He felt Sam shiver as the wide cock head pushed inside, contracting his muscles and trapping the thick shaft. 'Oh geez,' Sam thought to himself, as Owen slid into him. From between his spread legs, he could see the muscle of his anus stretching outward, following each of Owen's thrusts. The feeling of having Owen inside him was wonderful, but to also see Owen's expression change with each movement was close to overwhelming. 'This is soooo good,' he thought as he sucked the head of his own cock into his mouth. It was as if Owen's cock had grown tremendously long, and he was both being fucked and sucked by Owen.

Sam already knew everything which caused him to gasp with pleasure. The way Owen would rim him till he was begging to be filled. The way Owen would massage his prostate, driving him crazy with the sensations, were all things Jonah was having to learn. With Owen, they seemed to be natural.

Jonah was still unsure of himself, afraid he'd do something wrong. There was a sweetness in Jonah's naivete, and boyish enthusiasm to try anything new. He threw himself into everything . . . especially when he and Sam kissed.

"I love kissing," Sam had declared, after their lips had parted for the first time. "I'm thinkin' I love kissing more'n sex, even." His eyes had sparkled, "of course, I think I'm needin' lots more practice in sex." He'd laughed, climbing on top of Sam and began humping his hips, kissing, and sliding his erection against Sam's until they were both ready to shoot. Sam remembered how, on that first time together, their breathing had quickened as Jonah's thrusts had become stronger until they had both climaxed together, shooting their sperm between their bodies.

Afterward, Jonah had worried that he might have done something wrong. He was so accustomed to being told by his father, how poorly he did everything, he had half grown to believe it. When Sam had, he hoped, finally convinced Jonah he had been wonderful, Jonah had bowed his head, bit his lower lip, and took a halting breath, in an attempt to control his emotions.

"Thank you," he'd managed to say, only able to mouth the words, lest his voice betray his emotions.

Tonight, however, he wasn't with Jonah. He was with the man he'd always told himself he would spend the rest of his life with. They'd grown up together, how could he possibly think of spending his life with someone other than Owen? He'd discovered what it meant to love someone, by loving Owen. He'd laughed and cried with Owen, sharing one another's childhood successes and failures. It was Owen who had held him and told him everything would turn out okay, after learning Sam's father was gravely ill. It was Owen Sam had always dreamt of, his voice, his laugh, his touch, the tender touch of his hands . . . the taste of him . . . the smell. It was Owen who was now dripping perspiration onto him as he plunged his cock into Sam's hole, forcing Sam's own cock deeper into his own mouth. It had always been Owen . . . always, Owen. He'd never even thought of the possibility of falling inlove with someone else . . . until Jonah.

'Then, why am I feeling like I'm betraying Jonah by being with Owen? I tell Owen that serious thoughts are for another time, yet here I am, comparing the two brothers. Tonight . . . at least for tonight, I am totally Owen's he told himself, the moment before the familiar tingling began at the base of his cock, signaling his coming orgasm. He tightened his sphincter, pleased with Owen's surprised reaction.

"Geez, Sammy," Owen groaned, "you haven't lost your touch." He threw his head back while continuing to rhythmically thrust his hips. "If feels like you're milkin' me." After two more thrusts, he stopped pumping and tensed. He tightly closed his eyes and took gulps of air as he filled Sam's hole.

'Damn,' Owen thought to himself, 'I love slidin' in and out on my own sperm.' He slowly, reluctantly, pulled free while Sam continued, madly sucked on his own cock. "C'mon, Sammy," Owen urged, feeling an unexpected surge of excitement as he watched some of his own sperm escape Sam's slowly contracting hole. The thick fluid left a glistening trail as it slowly ran over Sam's perineum and balls, only to extend in a long strand which broke free to land on Sam's upper lip.

"C'mon," Owen repeated, plunging two fingers into Sam's sloppy hole and beginning to rub over Sam's swollen prostate. "Lemme jack you off. I wanna see you shoot your stuff into your own mouth." Sam released his cock and opened his mouth as Owen slowly masturbated him.

"Damn," Owen murmured, as he felt Sam's rigid penis thicken. A moment later, Sam's sphincter convulsively grasped at Owen's fingers. His prostate seemed to throb, and the first shot of sperm spewed out of the end of his penis, coating his tongue. Sam jerked as his cock pumped out a second jet, and yet again when a third stream hit his upper lip. When the thick strands became nothing more than watery droplets, Owen pulled his fingers free and Sam unrolled until he was lying flat on his back.

With surprising strength, he pulled Owen on top of him, then reached for Owen's face with both hands and they began to kiss, sharing Sam's load. Sam could feel Owen's penis thicken, and after only a few thrusts, he felt Owen pump out a second load between their two bellies.

'Ah Owen,' Sam thought, as Owen's sperm-slick tongue fought with his. 'Are we happy at being reunited, or are we afraid that this is the first step in saying goodbye?'

Jonathan rolled onto his stomach, cradling his head in his folded arms and cursed the too-short bed. He had hypnotically been watching the motes of dust in the shafts of sunlight coming through the window, reluctant to close his eyes, fearful the unremitting pounding in his head would return. For the past few minutes at least, he'd been mercifully free of the blind anger which seemed to envelop him for longer stretches of each day, capturing him, and leaving him exhausted each time it faded.

He closed his eyes and saw his wife's bruised face and her upraised arm, bloodied from the shards of glass she'd rolled over in an attempt to escape his blows. He rolled onto his side and covered his face with his hands, uttering a helpless groan. 'I did that,' the answer to why Bea had not come to free him, hovering before his eyes, scaring him breathless. 'That's why I'm here.' He bit his lower lip. 'I just don't remember. I . . .' From somewhere in the jail, there was the sound of a piece of furniture being scooted over the floor, and in that space of time the brief period of clear thinking winked out, dropping him into a dark pit of despair and anger.

He'd tried to fight those periods of darkness . . . at least at first. But, before long, he'd ceased being able to distinguish those flashes of clarity from the fog which clouded his thinking, like an incessant drizzle, which washed away the differences between reality and . . . everything else. 'That Maxine,' he grumbled, silently, seeking a target for his frustration . . . his anger. 'She's been playin' with m'mind.' His eyes widened and he rolled into a sitting position.

"No!" he said, aloud. "It's that boy! He's the reason things haven't gone right. He's the reason I'm here. It's his fault! If he'd only behaved and didn't have his head in the clouds all the time, things would have worked out.'

A faint voice seemed to laugh at his thoughts. 'Fool,' the voice said. 'Bea loved you, your children loved you, but you, YOU, changed that love to fear and hatred. You deserve to be here. It's not Owen's fault, or Maxine's. It's yours. All any of them wanted was a smile from you, a kind word, but look what you gave them!

'You'll only cause them more pain. You know you will, Jonathan,' the voice hounded. 'Pain . . . pain . . .' the voice echoed in his mind, eventually fading away until only the memory of the hurt and fear remained, eclipsing even, the seething chaos.

Jonathan twisted on the thin mattress trying to block out the voice. One moment, it was his mother's voice who ridiculed him for his failures. The next it was his father who told him what a disappointment he was. Each voice was accompanied by a ghostly, laughing, face, distorted almost beyond recognition. They were the faces of everyone he'd ever known.

'They've all hated me,' he whimpered. 'I've never been good enough . . . never lived up to expectations. I've always been a failure.'

There was Maxine, her face twisting as it wafted through his mind, as insubstantial as a puff of smoke. Her cackling laugh grated on his nerves, only to be replaced by Bea, who, rather than laugh at him, looked upon him with pity. 'She laughs behind my back though! I know it. I can feel it. She's just like all the others!'

The parade of laughing faces disappeared for an instant by the face of Jonathan's oldest son. Owen wasn't laughing at him. Owen had never laughed at him. Instead, he looked upon Jonathan with a terrible, longing sadness. His eyes were full of pain. 'The same pain I'm feeling,' Jonathan thought, twisting in fear and denial. 'Please,' he managed, reaching out toward the ghost of his son, his fingers grasping at the fading wisp of an image. "Please," he groaned, aloud, collapsing onto the bed as his son disappeared.

Jonah ran his forefinger through the thick puddles of sperm from his and Lucas' combined orgasms, smearing the liquid over the closely-cropped hair of Lucas' chest, then, moved downward, through Lucas' pubes. 'How many times have we shot tonight?' Jonah asked himself. 'I don't think I've ever made so much sperm in one evening.' He grinned as he watched Lucas slowly open his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y'want?" Jonah murmured, holding his dripping fingers over Lucas' mouth. "Y'wanna taste?"

Lucas made a mewling sound, deep in his throat and nodded once, opening his mouth. "Tell me," Jonah urged. "Tell me how much you want it."

"Please, Jonah," Lucas murmured, squeezing the muscles of Jonah's buttocks, feeling the muscles tense beneath his fingers. "Lemme taste." Jonah's eyes glinted with mischief as, instead of letting him lick his fingers, he held his hand above Lucas' face and spread his fingers, the sperm stretching into thin pearlescent webs, as Lucas' eyes widened, focusing on Jonah's long fingers.

"Sexy, huh?" Jonah asked, raising an eyebrow. Before Lucas could answer, Jonah wiped one cum-covered finger over Lucas' lower lip, leaving a glistening trail behind which was promptly licked away.

"More," Lucas begged, reaching for one of the threads of sperm with his extended tongue as the strand extended from Jonah's fingers. With a low laugh Jonah slowly shook his head.

"I wanna have some fun too," he murmured, as he smeared his open palm over one side of Lucas' face, then the other, and lastly, across Lucas' lips, excited more than he could have imagined by Lucas' groans of building passion. "This way," Jonah murmured, holding his hand close to Lucas' lips to be licked clean, 'both of us can taste our stuff as we kiss." He groaned, as Lucas wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, their tongues meeting as Jonah licked over Lucas' face, the day's-growth of beard teasing his tongue as he lapped up the remnants of their combined orgasms. He rubbed his thickening cock against Lucas' leg and felt Lucas exhale.

"I'm sorry," Lucas murmured. "As much as I'd like to go another round, I think I've reached my limit. I can feel you getting all stiff, but," he chuckled, "you've worn me out." Jonah rolled off and lay at Lucas' side, claiming possession with one leg draped over the man at his side.

"I'm catching up for lost time," Jonah murmured, as he toyed with the clipped hair of Lucas' chest and rubbed his cheek over the stubble of whiskers on Lucas' cheek and smiled. "I love the hair." His grin was barely visible in the darkened room. "I've always wished I had some hair on my, or that I could grow a beard, if I wanted." He snorted. "Here I am, nearly eighteen, and I only have to shave once a week!"

"You're lucky," Lucas murmured, running an index finger over Jonah's lower lip, puffy from their aggressive kisses. "Making up for lost time or not, we both need to get at least one or two hours of sleep tonight, don't you think?"

"Nope." Jonah shook his head. "I want to get as much enjoyment in as I can before you and Owen head back to school." At the thought, his eyes clouded, and he clutched Lucas more tightly.

Lucas ran a hand through the hair on the back of Jonah's head and spoke in a soothing voice. "I'm not going anyplace, you sexy man, and I don't think Owen is, either."

"But . . ."

"Shhh. Your mother needs Owen to be nearby. School can wait."

"But, you'll . . . what . . . be expelled, or something."

Lucas grinned. "They don't do that in college. We'll lose a semester. It's worth it, knowing that being here is helping your mother, and," he snuggled closer, "is giving the two of us some time to spend together. But, you, Mister," he added, in a voice he hoped was stern, "need to go to school, and not fall asleep in the middle of class, so," he tightened his embrace. "Let's at least try to sleep, shall we?"

"You're not plannin' on leaving soon?"

Lucas shook his head, his heart aching at the pain Jonah was feeling at the thought of being separated.

"Truly?"

"Truly."

"Jonah sighed, his muscles relaxing. "Then, I think maybe I do need to get a couple hours of sleep. But, you don't go anyplace, y'hear?" he asked, propping himself up on an elbow. "I don't want to wake up and find that you're gone and all this has been nothing but a vivid wet dream." He grinned, snuggling close and draped an arm over Lucas' chest.

"You're mine, Mister Horton," Jonah murmured, as sleep claimed him, and his voice faded. "I'm not sharing you with . . ." The sentence went unfinished.

"With whom?" Lucas wondered.

Lucas padded through the dimly lit house on bare feet carrying his underwear in one hand. It was nearly sunrise and he couldn't seem to fall asleep. The past night had been spectacular . . . way beyond what he might have expected. Jonah, shy at first, soon became an aggressive lover. He was much like Owen . . . but . . . not. Lucas glanced toward Sam's quiet bedroom as he passed and compressed his lips, shaking his head as he crossed the living room. 'Enough already!" he chastised himself. 'Leave them to their happiness. There's no reason for you to feel slighted.' He grinned. 'Just tired.'

Lucas pushed the screen door open, wincing as the squeak broke the stillness of the morning, then walked out onto the porch to be greeted by birdsong. The soft early morning air was still and sweet, warm enough to be comfortable, even though he was naked.

'I love this,' he thought, looking around. 'The songs from the birds in the trees, the air, full of the scent of growing things, the gently rustling leaves of the enormous oaks. A feeling of peace settled over him, easing tensions he had lived with for so long he no longer felt their presence, until they were absent.

He looked over his shoulder, thinking about the bedroom where he left Jonah, naked, sprawled across the tangle of sheets, his legs spread wide. Jonah's pale skin stood out in the darkness of the room. His broad shoulders tapered to the twin mounds of his buttocks. Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the pleasures he'd experienced, exploring those firm mounds and the tight sphincter. His cock had twitched as he'd stood at the bedroom door and watch Jonah shift position. He'd spread his legs further allowing Lucas a glimpse of his full scrotum puddling on the white bed sheets and his soft penis trapped against his leg.

Jonah was a vocal lover, oohing, aahing, and murmuring words of encouragement, his strong hands sending shivers of excitement over Lucas' body with every touch. When Jonah was in control, he would tease Lucas, both with his words and his actions, delaying the final release for both of them. Then, once they had both had an orgasm, he would snuggle close, an arm and leg capturing Lucas, while he rested his head in the crook of Lucas' shoulder, his breath warm against Lucas' skin.

'What is it about Jonah and Owen?' Lucas asked himself, watching a flock of birds fly past high overhead, their white wings caught by the sunlight which had yet to reach the gravel drive. 'Both of them seem to exude the same sense of peacefulness as their surroundings. Jonah's lovemaking, like Owen's, was slow. Each caress, a lingering touch, each kiss, an experience to be savored.

Lucas eased himself onto the cushion of a nearby rocking chair, pleased at the sensation of still being filled with Jonah's erection. He squirmed slightly, the nubbly feeling of the cushion's upholstery feeling good against his bare skin and sensitive hole. 'Damn,' he grinned. 'What a workout! I'll probably be walking funny for a few days.' Lucas ran an open palm over his chest, pausing to toy with his pubes. 'The first time Jonah took charge, pushed my legs back, and buried himself in me in one swift motion, I thought I'd shoot.' Lucas shook his head in wonder. 'I've never experienced kisses like his. One minute hesitant, the next insistent, with no hint of the shy person I'd expected.'

Thinking of Jonah caused Lucas to tighten his lips. 'I know exactly how he feels,' Lucas thought, thinking of Owen and Sam locked away in the bedroom. 'However, I can't help but think that I am better prepared for whatever happens. Poor Jonah's life has not prepared him in any way for the things he's facing. He loves Sam, but can't have him, so, he turns to me.' Lucas snorted a soft laugh of amusement.

'Isn't that exactly what I did, with him? I tell everyone that I love only Owen, yet what do I do the minute Owen goes to bed with Sam? I throw myself at Owen's brother! It's as if I'm telling the world that if I can't have the man I love, I'll settle for his brother!' The thought made Lucas squirm.

'That's not what happened, is it? I mean, Jonah is a wonderful person who deserves to be loved because he is Jonah, not because he is Owen's brother.' Lucas chewed on his lower lip. 'Am I doing exactly the thing Jonah feared? Am I using him to salve my own pain?' Lucas blinked, not happy with the unpleasant thoughts which had intruded on the peaceful morning. 'Be truthful with yourself, ol' boy,' he said. 'Jonah is not a man to be used . . . not by you . . . not by anybody. He deserves someone who'll love him unreservedly.'

At the far end of the porch, a cat lounged on the wide wooden railing. It yawned, stretching its jaws wide, then glanced in his direction before jumping off the railing and wandering off in search of an early morning meal.

The golden sunlight of dawn sent the shadows of tree trunks inching across the gravel drive, up the steps, and onto the porch. The pale apricot sky, framed by the distant trees, faded to pale blue, streaked with faint wisps of clouds. A shaggy dog wandered into the drive. It stood quietly at the foot of the steps, examining him, then shook itself and wandered away, its tail wagging gently.

Lucas smiled and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles, supporting his head with linked fingers. 'There's something so enticing about this place,' he thought. 'Something other than Owen or Jonah,' he added with a smile, 'or being able to sit outside, naked. The place . . . even the animals . . . exhibit the same sense of calm shown by the people.' He wondered what his mother or father would say if they knew he was sitting outside . . . naked . . . in broad daylight, then grinned. 'It doesn't matter what they'd say, this is what I want to do.' Last night, at dinner, Lucas had discovered something he would never have expected. The revelation was one of the reasons he was unable to sleep.

'I'm on my own, here,' he thought. 'I'm Lucas Horton, not Lucas, Neil Horton's son. For the first time in his life, he felt as if he had grown into his name. No matter how wonderful his relationship was with his parents, if he joined his father in the company real estate development business, he would always be Neil's son, the boss' son. He would always live in his father's shadow. Even after his father retired, Lucas would always be compared with, "the old man." He had been dissatisfied for some time, but Riverton had given him the opportunity to at last put words to his dissatisfaction. If he remained at home, he would never be his own man. 'I'll never have the freedom that I have today.' He sighed. This place, these people, are what I've been dreaming of. Now, all I have to do is figure out what to do with this newfound information.'

He continued to absently toy with the hair of his pubes. 'In the meantime, I'll have to make sure Owen and I call Mother. Owen told me he'd promised to keep her informed. 'She and Dad really have grown to love Owen, about as much as I do. I wonder what they'll think when the time comes for me to introduce them to Jonah.' He huffed an amused snort, 'they'll be confused as a baby in a topless bar.' Lucas' grin matured into a smile, as the phrase caused him to think of Corey and his myriad Southern sayings. 'He seems to have something to say about everything!' Lucas cupped his soft cock. 'I wonder what Corey would have to say about Jonah.

The memory of Jonah's fingers exploring his body the night before sent erotic shivers across his skin. Jonah's weight on top of him, Jonah's cock sliding into him, the taste of Jonah's tongue, his sweat, his sperm . . . they all added to Lucas' growing sense of well being. 'Just make sure your intentions are honorable,' Lucas chided himself. 'Do nothing to hurt the tender psyche of the man you've been thinking of . . . absolutely . . . nothing!'

The shaggy dog rounded the corner of the house. It ambled up the porch steps, studied the unfamiliar man, then rested its chin on Lucas' lap, looking up at him with liquid, longing eyes, and a slowly swishing tail.

Lucas grinned and began to scratch the dog's head, taking pleasure in the animal's sounds of the contentment, as much as he took pleasure in the sound of the breeze in the trees and the birds singing to one another. 'Life seems so . . . simple, here. It's so quiet.'

A floorboard creaked causing both him and the dog to turn toward to the doorway.

"I reached out to touch you and you were gone," Jonah murmured, stepping out onto the porch, wincing at the sound of the squeaky door hinges. It was the first time Lucas had actually seen Jonah, naked, in the light. The long penis which had given him so much pleasure during the night now hung in a thick curve over Jonah's large scrotum, both swaying with every step he took.

He leaned down and gave Lucas a lingering kiss. "When you weren't in bed, as I expected, I thought that maybe last night had been nothing more than a dream. Then," he added, 'I realized a dream would never leave my hole feeling all . . . tingly." He grinned, first at Lucas then turned to the dog and affectionately scratched its head. "I'm glad last night wasn't a dream." He caressed Lucas' bare shoulders, toying with the hair at Lucas' neck. "I had a good time," he added, his old shyness returning.

"Me too," Lucas murmured, unwilling to break the air of tranquility.

Jonah dragged a chair close and sat down, grinning in Lucas' direction. The painful shyness of the previous evening was mostly gone, leaving a person who continued to remain unsure whether he deserved the attention Lucas had lavished on him. "You gave me a real workout last night, my friend," he murmured, reaching for Lucas' hand across the space separating their chairs. "I'm not accustomed to feeling this . . ." He smiled and squirmed slightly. "This, full." His light laugh caused his eyes to sparkle.

"When I sat down, I was thinking the same thing," Lucas added, tightening his fingers, where they were linked with Jonah's. "You stretched me wider than I ever have been." He tightened his sphincter and grinned at the feeling. "I love it. It feels as if you're still inside me."

"Ooooh," Jonah teased. "I like the sound of that. I stretched you. Truly? I was okay? I . . ." Lucas tightened his fingers.

"I would have thought my actions would have told you exactly how much fun I was having." He brought Jonah's hand to his lips and kissed it. "You are absolutely." He kissed the back of the hand again. "You are absolutely perfect."

Jonah's blush seemed to envelop his entire body. He lowered his eyes, unsure of how to accept the compliment. "I think you're pretty perfect, yourself. I think," his eyes flicked to meet Lucas', "I could very easily become addicted to you." His smile slowly faded as he thought about what he'd said.

"I shouldn't think like that though, should I?" He glanced in Lucas' direction, suddenly disturbed. He stood and walked to the porch railing, silently looking toward the distant trees, in much the same pose as the night before. The dog, sensing his disquiet, nuzzled one of Jonah's legs. "I mean, you're only going to be here for a visit. Eventually, you and Owen will go back to school. I . . . I remember you saying that you and Owen would be staying for a while, to help Mama out, n'all, but . . . someday . . . both you'n Owen will go back to school. You'll have to."

"We'll see," Lucas said, captivated by Jonah's nakedness, his wide shoulders, narrow hips, firm buttocks, and long legs. "Nothing's going to happen soon. We're planning on being here for quite awhile, and there's no telling how things might fall out."

Lucas stood, taking the few steps to where Jonah leaned against the porch railing, and wrapped him in a tight embrace. "Don't anticipate things happening, Jonah. You'll only upset yourself, and when things don't turn out as you expected, you might end up realizing that you've done all that worrying for nothing." He tilted Jonah's chin up with a finger, then leaned close and tenderly kissed the younger man's lips.

"Y'know something?" Lucas asked, studying Jonah's mouth. After an amused shake of Jonah's head, Lucas continued. "Your hole isn't the only thing that seems to have gotten a workout last night." Jonah raised his eyebrows in query. "Your lips seem to be all puffy. Makes them even sexier than usual."

Jonah barked a short soft laugh. "I wonder if my butt hole looks the same. It sure feels that way." He looked at Lucas from beneath slightly lowered eyelids as if considering whether to say what he wished. "Do you want to check it out and let me know? Or, better yet, why don't we check out yours."

"I think I'll wait until after you get back from school. Then, we can investigate . . . in depth." Lucas grinned at Jonah's purr of agreement, tenderly brushing an unruly strand of hair away from Jonah's forehead with his fingers.

They both turned to the screen door where Owen, as naked as his brother and Lucas, stood poised to join them. Lucas felt Jonah stiffen slightly. 'Is he embarrassed by being naked in front of his brother,' Lucas wondered, 'or by having Owen catch us in a tender pose? Or,' Lucas concluded, 'was he taken off guard by his brother's appearance, and the knowledge that Owen had just come from Sam's side.

"You guys mind some company?" Owen asked, frowning slightly at the squeak of the screen door. He nodded toward the house. "Sam's still asleep. My body still thinks I'm in a different time zone."

Owen approached the men standing near the porch railing, resting an arm on a shoulder of each one. "Doin' okay?" he asked, looking first at Lucas then his brother. Jonah put his arm around his brother's waist and nodded.

"I'm doing good." Owen paused, studying his brother's face. "Truly?" he murmured. Jonah seemed to consider his answer before he answered. "Your friend here," he tilted his head in Lucas' direction, "did his best to take my mind off you guys." Jonah's lips twitched upward. "A few minutes ago I was tellin' him I wouldn't be able to walk right for at least a week."

"Ooooooh, I'm liking the sound of that," Owen laughed, taking pleasure in Lucas' blush. He leaned close to his brother, flicking a playful glance in Lucas' direction and lowering his voice, still unsure what Jonah's suddenly playful mood could mean.

"That good, eh?"

"Way better than good." Jonah's cheeks were tinted pink as he spoke, his eyes sparkling with unaccustomed mischief.

"I'm told he can kiss too." Owen wiggled his eyes in Jonah's direction, then cocked an eyebrow as he ran a forefinger over his brother's swollen lips.

"I'll say!"

"You guys can stop talking about me like I'm not here," Lucas groused, playfully slapping Owen's bare butt cheek. He was taking pleasure in the interplay between the two brothers, especially considering the reason for their being reunited.

"What about you?" Jonah asked, turning his back to the railing and resting against it, facing his brother. Owen hitched one hip onto the railing, near his brother, and idly swung one leg, pleased with the sense of peace Jonah seemed to have discovered.

"I'm good too," Owen answered, with a smile. "It's good to be home!" He heaved a smiling sigh and scooted closer to Jonah. "Damn good."

Jonah reluctantly pushed himself away from the porch railing, squeezing his brother's shoulder as they separated. "I've got to get ready for school. The bus'll be here before I know it." He made a face. "Someday, that driver isn't going to wait for me." His voice changed. "That might not be so bad though." Owen gave his brother a puzzled look. "Things have been rough the last couple of days," Jonah explained. "Word has already gotten out about Pops beatin' up on Mama. No one wants to say anything, but they're treatin' me differently . . . like I'm 'bout ready to haul off and knock 'em up against a wall." He chuckled. "Imagine . . . me doing something like that! I don't have enough bulk to push over anyone."

"You pushed me over," Lucas teased, pleased with the slight blush and lowered eyes.

"He's cute when he's embarrassed, isn't he?" Owen couldn't help asking. "'Course it doesn't hurt that he's naked, with all the goods flopping about either."

"Y'better stop," Jonah warned. "Lucas tells me he likes my goods." Owen quickly held his hands up in surrender.

"You've got very nice . . . goods," he chuckled. "I've always thought so. Now," he added, with a teasing note to his voice, "you have Lucas' opinion too. But, don't let all these rave reviews let your . . . ahem . . . head," he winked, "swell." Jonah rolled his eyes as he disappeared into the house, trailing a pleased laugh.

For a few moments, the quiet of the early morning returned. The long fingers of sunlight were now caressing Owen's leg, and reached for Lucas', oblivious of the birdsong, or the dog's mournful gaze.

"Feelin' okay?" Owen asked, studying his friend from where he sat perched on the porch rail.

He glanced at the dog who patiently sat, watching the two men. "Have you been introduced?" he asked Lucas, gesturing to the dog. "Lucas," Owen, said, with all seriousness. "Meet Dog. Dog," he looked at the animal, "this is Lucas." He added as an aside, when Lucas laughed and Dog raised its head, recognizing its name. "Sam never did figure out a good name, so . . ." Owen looked around, searching for something. "You'll also have to meet Cat.

At the sound of his name Dog roused itself, nudged Owen with his nose, then padded to the screen door, its tail slowly wagging. When it became clear Jonah would not be returning with a bowl of food, Dog ambled to Owen and licked across a foot, resulting in a distracted scratch on the head. Owen's attention was on Lucas.

"Y'okay?" Owen asked, a second time. Lucas glanced up and nodded once, a smile of contentment lighting his face.

"Yes. I'm doing good." He quickly amended himself. "Very good. Last night was awesome, but there's more to me feeling good than just that." Both he and Owen smiled as Sam joined them, handing each a cup of steaming coffee. Like the other two men, Sam was naked. He scratched his pubic hair as he sat down, and yawned, giving the others a look of apology.

"You guys are still in a different time zone than me. Besides, I can tell I'm gonna be sore all over after last night." His eyes clouded, and he laid a comforting hand on Lucas' thigh.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't very considerate of me."

"No worries, Sam."

Owen snorted. "He and my little brother got to know one another . . . very well, last night," Owen grinned, pleased he could give Sam the good news. They'd both worried about Jonah and Lucas, and it was good to know things apparently were working out well. Sam's smile twitched, wondering how he should react to Owen's seemingly offhand comment. He didn't want Jonah to suffer because he and Owen were together, but, at the same time, he didn't want Jonah to share Lucas' bed either.

'You can't have it both ways,' Sam told himself. 'If you truly want Jonah as your life-long partner, then you should be doing something about it, not sleeping with his brother, no matter how much of a past the two of you share.'

"Listen to him," Lucas laughed, gingerly taking a sip from his steaming cup of coffee, unaware as Owen was of Sam's internal argument. "Little, he says!"

Sam sputtered, while Owen looked on, wearing a radiant smile, his attention caught by his brother's approach.

"Who's little?" Jonah asked, wrestling with the squeaky screen door and muttering as he balanced his book bag and bowl of dog food. The door relented with an angry high pitched squeal and swung open, banging against the wall before swinging half-way shut. Jonah pushed the door closed with his foot then set a bowl of food down for Dog. He straightened, adjusting his book bag, and cast a last look of exasperation toward the screen before turning back to the three men who'd been watching his struggle with various degrees of amusement.

"Not you, apparently," Owen laughed. He nodded in Lucas' direction. "Your boyfriend has been tellin' us about how rough it is for him to sit down."

"And walk," Sam added, his eyes smiling across his coffee cup.

"Guys!" Lucas protested, his voice rising.

"Well," Jonah added, straight-faced. "He asked to be spanked."

"Ooooooh."

"Spanked?" Lucas sputtered. "What? . . . When?"

"And fucked too, I bet?" Owen chimed in, pleased by his brother's grin and nod. It was good to see a more relaxed side to Jonah.

Sam hid his faltering smile behind his coffee cup.

"Many times," Jonah teased, leaning forward to give Lucas a kiss. "And, I plan on a repeat performance as soon as I get back from school, so don't drain yourself while I'm gone." He hurried down the steps, waving to the school bus, which was waiting at the end of the drive, while the three men on the porch watching him wave and break into a jog were momentarily lost in their own thoughts about the young man who waved one last time before climbing aboard the bus.

"You realize, men," Lucas murmured, "that the three of us are flashing the children on the bus?"

Owen looked over his shoulder, to where the bus was puling away. "Actually, I'm mooning them. You guys are the flashers."

Sam shrugged. "They've seen it all before, so it's no big deal."

"You get around a lot, I guess?" Lucas teased, ducking away from Sam's playful punch on the shoulder. Owen cleared his throat, knowing how much of a tease Lucas could be. If he didn't change the subject, Sam wouldn't know what hit him.

"You were mentioning feeling very good," he prompted. Lucas seemed to take the hint, giving Owen a smile of pure contentment.

"Yeah, I'm feeling great! I like it here, guys." He absently scratched Dog's head, tenderly acknowledging the animal's whimper of pleasure. 'It's as if I'm out from under a pressure I never knew was weighing me down."

"The snow?" Owen teased, motioning his apology at Lucas' exasperated reaction.

"Expectations, family, my father, Allison . . . my mother . . . that university. All of them expected Neil Horton's son to behave in a certain way. It was as if I was a puppet whose strings were being pulled by someone else, following a script I had no input in. Here, there are no expectations. I am free to not follow a pre-determined script." He smiled. "I feel so . . . free! Besides," he added, "there's the quiet, which I love, all the stars I've never seen, the smells of the damp earth . . . everything. You guys," he added, and Jonah, of course."

"What are you saying?" Owen asked, feeling much the same as his friend, and surprised with the strength of his feelings.

Lucas shrugged, finishing his cup of coffee. 'I don't really know, yet. But, I'm thinking I like it here . . . a lot.

Sam spoke. "Enough to stay? To leave your parents, your school, the wind, ice, humidity, snow. Did I mention the ice, and snow? And the cold," he added.

"Don't forget the snow," Owen murmured, drawing an exasperated look from Lucas.

"Alright, already. I know what you think of the snow." He held out a hand. "I agree with you." Lucas snorted softly and nodded. "I have to think about what I'd do here, but yes, unless things change dramatically, I'm thinking I'd like to stay, permanently."

"Did Jonah bring about this decision?"

"No, not really. He is part of it, but there's more. I was half in love with the place, just from your descriptions, Owen. Now that I've seen it, and met your mother, sisters, and brother, I like it that much more." He studied Owen with a sharp look. "Now that you're back, what are you thinking? Have your thoughts about the place changed? Do you think you could enjoy living here again?"

Owen blinked, pausing a moment to consider his answer. "Things do look different, I admit. I don't think I really understand yet how I've changed since I've been away, so I'm not sure . . . about staying. One thing's the same though. I still don't know what I'd do if I did stay. I want to do something important, guys, something that will mean something, not only now, but down the road. I want to . . . to . . .," he reached out with a finger and touched Sam, "to touch people in some way." He shrugged. "I don't know how I can do that."

Lucas swallowed, then continued. His eyes flicked to Sam's in a silent request for yet more understanding. Having both Sam and Owen understand his thoughts had suddenly become very important to him.

"You were my first love, Owen, and if for no other reason, you'll always be important to me, but I'm finding that I'm attracted to Riverton for precisely the same reasons you originally wanted to leave. I like the peace and quiet. It's a beautiful setting, and I imagine when everything is growing and the fields are green, it will be stunning. I'm thinking that I could be happy here. So," he laughed, "all that's left for the three of us is to figure out is what the three of us can actually do!"

He sighed, absently scratching behind Dog's ears as he spoke. He turned toward Owen. "I would hate to think that we've reversed places, with you moving off to the city and me staying in the small town." He reached out, asking for Owen's hand, then took Sam's with his other. "The three of us have got to stay together, guys. I'm thinking that we three, and Jonah, can do great things, if we stick together."

Bailey smiled a greeting, pushed the apartment door closed with a solid thunk, and sighed, his smile widening as he saw Corey sprawled on the sofa, fresh from his workout. "Welcome back to the ol' homestead," Corey murmured as Bailey stood after a lengthy kiss. "You seem especially pleased with yourself." He made an inquiring gesture and raised his eyebrows, inviting an explanation.

"I'm just practicing smiling," Bailey teased, rolling over the back of the sofa, feeling daring as he did so. He knew his parents would be scandalized at his behavior, but, 'hell,' he thought. 'I won't roll over the back of the sofa when I'm visiting them, but here I can do what I want.' The thought, and the fact that he was now looking up at Corey, his head cradled in Corey's lap, caused his smile to increase.

"Actually," he added, reaching up and running a fingertip over Corey's lips. "On the way up the stairs, I realized that I'm living with the sexiest man on the whole frigging campus."

"Friggin'," Corey corrected.

"Oh." Bailey paused a moment, filing away the correction. "Okay, bro."

"Don't overdo it, Bailey," Corey chuckled. "Friggin', maybe, bro, never," he added, shaking his head.

"Sure?" This time, Corey nodded.

After a nod, Bailey accepted the advice.

"So," Corey continued. "Why the smile, other than practice, and of course, because I'm so friggin' sexy?"

"I was part of a discussion group earlier this afternoon, and people listened to me when I spoke. Instead of rolling their eyes and making snide comments about how I talk or dress, they actually listened! He squirmed with excitement. "I was nervous as hell, though."

"But you did it! Congratulations!"

Bailey rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in Corey's crotch and wiggling it from side to side as he made animal noises. "Now," he said, twisting his head to the side and looking up, "all I need to make this a perfect day is to make love with you." He sniffed Corey's sweat suit-covered crotch. "You haven't taken a shower yet, since you got home from the gym, have you?" When Corey shook his head, Bailey's smile widened. "Good!" He raised the hem of the sweat shirt, exposing Corey's bare belly, and licked a broad swath over the tight skin. "I'll lick you clean."

He returned his attention to Corey's groin, opening his mouth and teasing the jock-clad cock with his teeth. "Better yet! I'll start with licking your cock until you spray the load I know you've been building up. Then," he continued, vigorously trying to burrow into the sweaty fabric. "Then, I'll clean your balls, and hole."

"Then, I'll focus on your pits," he continued, pushing himself into a kneeling position and skinning Corey out of his sweat shirt before burying his face in the dark hair of one of Corey's armpits, humming his appreciation as he licked the damp hair.

He knelt astride Corey, wiggling his butt over Corey's groin, as he leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, looking into Corey's wide eyes as he did so. "Or, better yet, want me to sperm in your hand, so you can use it as lube to fuck me?" He pushed against the growing mound of Corey's groin. "I know how much you enjoy sliding in, surrounded by jiz."

Without waiting for an answer, Bailey quickly stood and stripped, tossing his clothing onto a nearby chair. "Lose the clothes," he ordered, as he began furiously masturbating himself. "I'm itching to feel you inside me, so I'm not going to fool around, drawing this show out for the fun of it." He licked over his lips as he fondled his stiff cock. "I can still taste your sweat, so it'll only take a few minutes." He made a hurry up motion with his free hand as he spread his legs, bending his knees slightly and began fisting his erection.

Corey rolled off the sofa and peeled out of his clothes, his eyes locked with Bailey's as he tossed his clothes aside. Once naked, he stepped closer, raised an arm, and offered his sweaty pit to Bailey, who extended his tongue and groaned as he began to lick.

"Gonna shoot," he murmured, pushing his cock head against the palm of Corey's cupped hand. After a couple more strokes, Bailey opened his mouth wide, inhaled deeply, held his cock still, and pumped out three splashes of viscus sperm leaving a thick white puddle in the palm of Corey's hand.

The moment Bailey's cock stopped pulsing he knelt on the sofa, leaning against the back with his arms folded and presented his butt to Corey.

"Plow me, Mountain Boy," he urged, imitating Corey's Southern accent. "Ride me hard n'long!" He reached around and smacked his own butt with the palm of his hand adding an exclamation point to his demand.

"Yee Haw!" Corey laughed, coating his cock with Bailey's jiz. "I love it when ol' Bail gets frisky!" Bailey responded with another sharp slap, leaving behind a pink imprint on his light skin.

"Corey!" Bailey shouted, looking over his shoulder. "Don't just stand there admiring my butt, either fish or cut bait!"

"What?" Corey laughed. "That's my line!"

"Do it!"

"I'm fixin' to!" Corey licked across his sperm-slick hand, then pressed the head of his cock against Bailey's waiting hole and watching as it slowly engulfed the wide head until the prominent ridge disappeared and the sphincter snapped tightly around the shaft. "Don't get all antsy on me, Bail! By the time I finish with you, you'll be leaking my sperm and walkin' funny." He pushed all the way in. "But," he continued, pulling out then slamming himself into Bailey's anus with a powerful thrust, "you'll be smiling."

~ to be continued ~

Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I always welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send you a pic of the character(s), please ask.

Roy Reinikainen roynm@mac.com