STRANGE BEDFELLOWS Chapter 2 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Discaimer: The following story is a mostly-fictional account of the author's experiences and relationships while a college student. The characters are either composites of people he knew, or those about which he fantasized. Any resemblance to real people, either living dead, is a pure coincidence, and is also a bloody shame. If you are not old enough in your state to read sexually explicit material, then get the hell out of here. This story is copyrighted, 2006, and may not be reproduced or reposted without the expressed, written permission of the author.
Feedback is always welcomed, however. Let me know what you think. You may contact me, if you wish, at Scotty.13411@hotmail.com. Hope you enjoy.
Scott was awake at 5:30 a.m. on Monday, and it was a given that he was not going to get back to sleep. He'd long been an early riser, ever since he began his morning paper route in the seventh grade. By now, as long as he hadn't been out partying the night before, he nearly always woke up before his alarm went off. He switched the clock's alarm control to "off" so that it wouldn't wake his snoring roommate. As quietly as he could, he filled the coffee pot, then headed down the hall in his boxers, carrying his towel in such a way as to conceal the morning wood that was tenting his boxers. "This won't be so bad," he thought to himself, "I can drop off the paper at the TA's office for him to review, and maybe schedule a time to meet later in the week, after he's had a chance to read it." As he passed Frank and Jesse's room he heard The Who playing. Long a fan of classic rock, he approved of their choice, but he hadn't expected to hear any signs of life on a college dormitory floor at such an early hour.
After taking a long and satisfying morning leak, he headed toward the shower, relieved that he was the only one in the facility. He'd been thinking a lot about Saturday's "exercise: with Marty, and had found himself leering at more guys than he ever had before. He was almost dreading the possibility of meeting some other guy in the shower, afraid he'd wind up embarrassing himself with a raging hard on. Standing under the hot water, he replayed many of the images of his episode with Marty. Part of him still couldn't believe he'd fucked another guy, and done it so enthusiastically. Better still, it had been the hot young stud he'd lusted after since first laying eyes on him. "College life is good," he thought as he smirked. He hadn't cum since that romp in his room, and this morning there was a definite yearning in those loins. It didn't take too much action from his soapy hand to get his cock's full attention. His right hand grabbed the member while his left wandered around his upper torso, occasionally pinching either the right or the left nipple. He spread his legs a bit while he worked his cock, playing with his balls and rubbing one or two fingers from the sac up to his somewhat hairy hole. He lingered a bit there, trying to gauge whether or not he could ever submit to having another guy enter him. "Never," he thought.
Still, he replayed Marty's robust performance, and imagined how he'd meet the guy's moves step by step next time, whenever that might be. Before long his thighs flexed and he stood rigidly upright, his hips thrusting almost involuntarily. God, it felt good. In several spasms and spurts, he fired healthy load onto the tiled wall. He opened his eyes just in time to see the fruit of his labor rolling down the wall and washing down the shower drain. His right hand, the thumb covered in his cum, was out of the shower's spray, and it was still coated in his seed. Scott stuck the thumb in his mouth and sucked. "Not awful," he thought again, "but still an acquired taste" he said out loud as he turned his face toward the stream of water and opened wide, rinsing his mouth out without swallowing. He spit toward his feet, and finished the shower.
After drying off, feeling quite refreshed, he shaved and brushed his teeth.
He headed back down the hallway, towel wrapped around his waste, and hummed to "Baba O'Reilly" as he passed Frank and Jesse's room. "Teenage wasteland..."
He shut the door as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb his buddy Craig, and tip-toed over to the dresser to pour a cup of coffee. After turning the volume down on the computer's speakers, he opened the file he'd been working on since late last week. He wanted to touch up the draft, and hoped that Craig might be awake before he printed it. He didn't want the noisy printer to wake him up. He had to hit "print" anyway, and enjoyed another cup of coffee while he checked the local headlines online. As the noisy machine churned out the first draft of his work, he read that many of the state's political pundits were predicting a change in majority power in the legislature in the coming November elections. One pol opined that, at least in the state senate, power would probably change hands. "Could be good news for Maureen," Scott thought.
By 7:00 a.m., he was dressed and on his way toward the door, draft paper in hand, and he had a plan for the day. He double-checked the course syllabus and outline, making sure that he had the right number for the office of Randall Oakes, teaching assistant for his poli-sci. course. Room 231-B, Bascom Hall. "Shit," he thought. "Gotta walk the hill today."
Bascom Hall was at the top of Bascom Hill, the focal point of UW's campus. The building was a stately red bricked structure with white columns announcing its entrance. An impressive, though not imposing, statue of a seated Abraham Lincoln was situated out front. It looked like a much smaller version of the one in the memorial in Washington, D.C., but it was bronze, having turned greenish under the elements over the years. And this one wasn't donned in the robes that the D.C.'s memorial tribute had. Just Abe, sitting in a very stately manner, looking toward the state capitol at the other end of State Street. Local legend had it that any time a virgin walked by, Abe would stand up.
The other night, as they were all talking trash in Marty and Brett's room, Scott had told the other guys that Mr. Lincoln actually did jumping jacks the last time Marty and Craig walked past. He was just wondering whose virginity Abe was celebrating. Craig smacked him upside the head and Marty dove for his crotch. He copped a feel in front of the other guys, much to the amusement of everyone. That Marty. What a cut-up. Coming out his slumber, Craig snorted and coughed. "Shit, are you always such a morning person?"
"Normally, yeah. Habit, I guess."
"Gotta do something about that fuckin' printer. That mother's loud! Either that, or you gotta do your work at night, bud.
"You got it. Sorry `bout that."
"But, the coffee smells good. Mind if I dive in?" Craig moved his very big feet to the floor, stood up and reached under his boxers, past his morning hard on to scratch his balls.
"Not much left, but knock yourself out. There's more coffee in the can if you wanna make another pot. Gotta fly. Later..." and he closed the door behind him. He liked Craig, and knew that they could iron out any wrinkles in their schedules or their work habits. Plus, his roommate had introduced him to Marty. He wondered if Marty had ever gone down on Craig. That was a pretty decent boner he was throwing this morning, after all, but that was his only thought.
Half-way down the hallway, he heard some more of The Who, but it was considerably louder. But the song was ending, and between tracks Scott heard clearly heard a "smack;" flesh on flesh, no doubt about it, and a throaty male voice uttered "Oh you fucker." Thinking there was a fight in progress, he stepped toward the door. Just as he had his hand on the doorknob, he heard "That's it, man, give me that ass."
"Make it yours, stud! Take my ass and make it all your own." Another smack, followed by another, "oh yeah!!"
He couldn't tell who was nailing whom, but he smirked, and let go of the doorknob. Is Frank fucking Jesse? Is Jesse fucking Frank? Who cares, he thought, as he heard a muffled "uuuuurrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhh," apparently screamed into a pillow. `Shit!! Wish I was in there, playing with the two of them, or just watching.'
He hit the call button for the elevator, then wavered between taking the stairs or returning to the guys' room and listening in a bit more while he waited. Theirs was the room closest to the elevator door, and he wanted a mental picture of what was going on. Just as he'd decided to step back to try and eavesdrop a little, the "ding" signaling the arrival of the elevator car interrupted. The doors opened, and he was greeted by the smiling face of Marty Anderson.
"Hey!! Mornin' professor!" Marty was the only other occupant, and as Scott entered, part of him wanted to pin the guy against the wall and stick his tongue down his throat. Even though he'd shot a morning load less than an hour ago, the image of Jesse and Frank in his mind was starting to make him a bit horny. The image of Marty bending over in the elevator, begging to get fucked, flashed instantly in his mind.
Scott fought to regain some composure. "How's it goin' dude? You're an early riser. Early class?"
"Nah. Not til ten on Mondays. Goin' out for a run. I like to get in some sort of work out just about every day, and usually want to get it in before going to class," he paused for effect, "unless it's a weekend, then I don't mind waiting til early afternoon and working up a good sweat with a little one-on-one." He winked.
Scott grinned. "Don't I know it. Let me know next time you need some help with that workout." He glared down at Marty's crotch and contemplated reaching behind and grabbing his ass, but the elevator was nearing the ground floor. He kept his hands to himself.
"Count on it," Marty smiled as they exited the elevator. They chatted a bit outside the entrance to their dorm, reviewing their class schedules for the week. The unspoken subtext to the conversation seemed to Scott to be "when can we arrange for me to tap your ass again?
On his way up the hill, it occurred to Scott that this was going to be a bitch of a walk once the snow was falling, and when those January and February winds started blowing right through you. But, he was on his way to the office of Randy Oakes. The guy's office hours weren't in play at this early hour, but he hoped there'd be other visits to sit down with Randy.
Randy was, Scott noted on the first day of class, a great looking guy. When the professor introduced him, Scott guessed him to be about twenty-five years old. Built like a gymnist. Relatively short, but stacked. He had dark brown hair, cut quite short, and already receding a bit at the corners.
Were it not for the goatee, his face would have had a positively boyish appearance, with deep brown eyes and prominent dark eyebrows that grabbed your attention at the very first glance. His eyes just sucked you in. The dimple in his right cheek came to light even when he didn't flash a full-fledged smile. Scott guessed he was about five-foot seven inches, and a very solid 150 pounds. Slim at the waist with a very firm, tight ass and a sweet looking package in front. And, sadly, a wedding ring. "How the hell does a twenty-something year-old grad student end up being married?" Scott wondered when he noticed the band on the finger. He'd only attended two of the course discussions that first week, with Randy in the lead, but Scott deemed him to be a very intelligent and articulate young man; well-read and well-bred it seemed to him. Part of the attraction was the passion he seemed to exude as he discussed the varied details of the political process and what it could mean to the individual citizen.
Reaching the top of the hill, he looked to his right and paid his respects to Mr. Lincoln. "Keep your seat, sir," he said out loud, and he smiled.
Scott recalled Randy's office hours again, making a mental note about when he would next visit the second floor of Bascom Hall. Turning the corner at the top of the stairs, he was a little surprised to see the door of room 231 opened, lights on and some light jazz being played. Sticking his head in, he saw that 231-A was to the left, and 231-B was to the right. He stepped back to read the TA's office hours posted on the hallway entrance: "Randall Oakes: Monday, Wednesday and Friday: 10:30 to 12:00; Tuesday and Thursday, 3:30 to 5:00." It was nearing 8:00 a.m. on Monday, and someone was trying to retrieve an item from beneath one of the desks in the office. Unless Scott was mistaken, the ass on display beneath that desk was that of Randakk Oakes.
"Sweet," thought Scott. Before knocking on the door frame, or clearing his throat, or finding some other way to announce his presence, he surveyed the tiny office. Two desks, each one holding a computer and stacks and stacks of file folders, books and papers. Four file cabinets, several book shelves and one window overlooking the back of Mr. Lincoln's head and hill. It was very crowded and very cluttered, just as it should be. One coffee maker on top of a small refrigerator, and Mr. Coffee was gurgling out the last of a fresh pot of java. It smelled great. Featured prominently in the center of the desk under which the hot ass was situated was a five-by-seven inch wedding picture of what could only be Mr. and Mrs. Randall Oakes. "Shit," Scott thought, and then he felt guilty about thinking the same. She was gorgeous. He looked positively delicious, though the beard was missing, making him look like he was about twenty at the time. He couldn't help but look down once more and admire that nicely packaged bubble butt. "Damn," he thought.
"Uuuhhhmmm, Mr. Oakes?" Scott announced.
Thud! Oakes whacked his head under the center drawer of the desk. "Damn!!" came the voice from under the desk. Scott muffled a small chuckle. "What?!" Randy scooted out from under the desk holding the envelope that he had just retrieved in one hand, rubbing the back of his head with the other.
"Mr. Oakes was my father. I'm Randy. Hey, aren't you in my state government section?" He was smiling rather sheepishly.
"Yeah, I am, Mr... uhm Randy. I'm Scott Turner." Scott extended his hand, and Randy dropped the envelope again to extend his greeting, still rubbing his head. He left the envelope on the floor as he shook Scott's hand and looked at him intently.
"I didn't expect to find you here, but was just going to drop off my draft of our first paper assignment. I really appreciated your offer to review our work and give some input, and wanted to take you up on it. I was going to stop back later, during your regular hours, to schedule a time to discuss the work in progress."
"Quick work, Mr. Turner. For what it's worth, I'm impressed." The handshake had just now broken off, a bit reluctantly, Scott thought.
"Scott... Mr. Turner is my dad. And, it's worth plenty, I think."
"You might think better of that in time...we'll see. My wife's gone and I was awake at the crack of dawn. I figured I'd get some quiet time in the office without interruption. Thanks a lot."
"Sorry. I was up early, too, and it just worked out that I could drop in here on my way to the morning class."
"So, what d'ya got here, Scott? Tell me about it, in a nutshell." Randy set the pages down and quickly scanned through them while scratching his very smartly trimmed goatee.
"Well, I think I covered the assignment you handed out and the professor described. I just wanted to hear from you whether or not I'm on the right track." Randy rested his ass on the edge of his desk and shoved his right hand into his hip pocket. He was adjusting himself, and Scott's eyes were momentarily glued to a beautifully contoured crotch.
He blinked himself back to the here and now, and the matter at hand. "See, I grew up in the 29th senate district. I did a breakout of the district's demographics and tried to describe the issues that would resonate most loudly with the district's most likely voters. I also tried to suggest the positions that would most benefit any candidate thinking of running in that district, given the data available."
Randy flipped through the pages. "Geez, this really is quick work! At first glance, it looks like you've sliced this district to pieces and taken a look at it from just about every angle. Gender...race...age... party affiliation...occupation and socio-economic status... I am impressed. But, I should tell you that I know the 29th pretty well. Grew up there myself."
"No shit? I mean, really?"
"No shit. Want a cup of coffee?" Randy asked with a smirk, rooting around the desk looking for his coffee mug. He found it, then took a spare one off a hook on the wall. Checking both mugs for dust, he filled one and then the other. On the second effort, he missed his mark, splashing a good amount on the top of his left shoe.
"Shit! Sorry. What a flippin' klutz." Scott grinned. Randy found a paper towel and wiped off the top of his Doc Marten's. They looked new; jet black with a high polish, the klunky soles and bright yellow stitching screaming their brand name to anybody who knew even a little about shoes. On the one hand, they fit Randy's physical appearance, a bit "butch," thought Scott, and Randy was a hunk who could pull it off. On the other hand, his somewhat soft-spoken demeanor didn't quite fit the part.
The two had a cup of coffee and chatted for a while. They learned that they'd grown up seven years and about thirty miles apart. Each knew the other's home town fairly well. Randy discovered that he knew two of Scott's cousins, with whom he'd gone to high school. Scott was thankful that his cousin Will was not among them, though he was positive that Will would've gone down on Randy in a heartbeat if given the chance. `Who wouldn't?' he thought, as he appreciated the comfy package that appeared to reside under the denim between Randy's thighs.
Scott learned that Randy was on track to finish his masters degree at the end of the current school year. Meantime, he was making ends meet working as a teaching assistant in the poli-sci department. He'd met his wife when they were both undergraduates in Madison, and married right after graduation. She got a great offer from Northwestern University, and he locked into the position at the UW. For the time being, during the school year, they only saw each other on weekends, taking turns commuting to either Madison or Evanston, Illinois. "Maybe we should have waited on the wedding, but we didn't see the different job offers coming our way, and it's only temporary," Randy shrugged. "Still, on a lot of nights, and even many days, it's kind of a bitch being twenty-five, healthy, and having your wife over two hours away." He winked at Scott.
"I'll bet," was all Scott could muster. He was enjoying the image of Randy humping his beautiful wife. Her legs were spread and his taut ass cheeks were rising and falling as he pounded a magnificent cock in and out of her. `Lucky lady' he mused.
"So, you've brought me the master plan for a campaign in the 29th district, have you? If this is any good, I'll bet Maureen McCarthy and her gang would appreciate seeing it."
Scott didn't bother to mention his connection with the senator. Nor did headd that most of the data he'd included had been gathered by Maureen's last campaign organization. As soon as he saw the assignment, he knew it was in the bag. One e-mail to Maureen's last campaign manager and one e-mailed response provided him with most of the information in the paper. It wasn't really cheating, since Scott had played a healthy part gathering the information during the last campaign.
"Of course," Randy went on, "the good senator is probably going to want to see state-wide electoral data before too long. What's your read, Scott? Do you think the old girl is going to take a serious stab at the attorney general's race?" He kept fiddling with the band on his left ring finger.
"What do you mean?" asked Scott, gazing at the ring. It really was a pretty dazzling piece of jewelry. Bright white silver with an intricate woven engraved pattern going all the way around. Most men's wedding bands were quite plain, but this one really was unique. Scott was sure that it attracted most peoples' eyes any time they paid attention.
"Well, she doesn't have to run for re-election this year. Rumor has it that the governor and the party loyal want her to run for the AG's spot two years out. A lot of insiders would tell you that she's being groomed for the governor's office after the current putz puts in one more term. She's his darling, you know. The scenario I hear is that she wins one statewide race and holds the office for one term. Then, the retiring governor throws his considerable support her way to replace him."
"I knew that they both shared plenty of mutual support, but I wasn't aware that she had those kind of aspirations." Scott still felt the need to avoid tossing around his family's association with Maureen, but he was a bit surprised by Randy's revelations. He really hadn't ever heard that Maureen was looking any further than taking care of the folks back home. He wondered just how connected this guy was to the real Madison grapevine.
"Well, if any of it's true, it's also going to be interesting to see who lines up to replace her in the senate. If she does set her sights higher, her seat would be up for grabs in just two years. That's one of the things that makes this paper kind of interesting." Randy had rolled the pages into sort of a scroll, and tapped Scott's thigh with it before setting it on his desk. "I'll take a look at it. Let's plan to meet again on Wednesday, but this time during my normal office hours. I'll try to be standing upright when you arrive and we can discuss it further then."
Scott had become fairly engrossed in the political conversation, but his imagination shifted again when Randy said "standing upright." He couldn't resist. "Don't go out of your way on my account. Standing upright...on all fours...whatever works for you." They both laughed, and their eyes lingered a bit longer than either was completely comfortable with. Scott could swear he saw the tip of Randy's tongue quickly pass along his slightly parted lips.
"Fair enough," he continued. "I'll see you in discussion tomorrow morning, and meet you back here in the office on Wednesday. Well, I have to run to make it to my lit. class. I really appreciate it, Randy."
"OK, see you tomorrow in class, and looking forward to Wednesday. Have a good one."
They shook hands once more.
Scott thought of their encounter several more times during the day, and tried to brush off the attraction he felt. After all, the guy's married and all but said he's always horned up for the missus down in Illinois. Still, a guy can fantasize, and he was hardly an amateur when it came to conjuring up all sorts of erotic images. Randy made his way into Scott's mental porn movies more than once during the course of the day. Randy, with Marty's cock in his mouth. Randy with Scott's cock gliding smoothly in and out of his ass, and with Marty's cock in Scott's mouth at the same time. That was his favorite, so far, but he was just warming up.
After his last class, Scott took a late afternoon run, and then went to grab a bite to eat with Craig before heading to the library for a few hours of book time. While on the way over to the commons, and while standing in line, he told Craig about his meeting with his TA, and all he'd heard about the political scene back home. Scott had made it something of a mission to educate this aspiring journalist from Illinois on the ins and outs of Wisconsin politics. "Most of our aren't crooks, so coming from Illinois you'll need to adjust your expectations some" was becoming his favorite line.
They ran into Brett and Marty, and the four of them maligned each other between forks full of mystery meat and overcooked pasta. They were seated in a booth, Craig and Scott on one side, Marty and Brett on the other. Scott and Marty each sat on the inside, next to the wall, directly across from one another. In the course of a perfectly normal conversation about college academics, college and professional sports, women, sex and politics, an increasingly risky game of footsie started between the two guts. Both were wearing flip-flops. Marty had kicked his off, and his left foot landed on top of Scott's right, and it lingered there. Scott pushed up, and Marty remained steadfast. He curled his toes a few times on the top of Scott's foot, as if he was trying to grab ahold of it.
Their eyes met as they chuckled at something someone had said, but neither was sure what was funny. After a minute, Marty removed his foot, but before long, Scott had slid out if his rubber sandal, and hooked his right one around the back of Marty's left leg, the top of his foot and toes contacting his friend's calf. He rubbed up and down a couple of times. Marty coughed, feigning an unfortunate sip of his Coke.
They all laughed at him. "Shouldn't take on more than you can swallow, boy," Scott shot at him. He removed his foot from Marty's leg, and basically raised the stakes by spreading his own thighs a bit further, and leaned forward on the table to block any view from above ground. Marty read the body language, and soon Scott felt his friend's big toe travel up his calf and past his knee. He felt Marty's heel rest between his thights, and then the big toe found his hardening cock. He wanted to lean back, allowing himself to spread his legs open further, but he couldn't. Soon, all of Marty's foot was planted firmly between his thighs, and he was working to massage Scott's hard-on with his toes. Marty just looked across the table and flashed that award-winning smile. And then the little fucker winked! It was too much. Scott feared that Marty was going to be able to make him shoot a load right there.
Marty continued telling his story about a recent fight with his little brother. It was a real knock-down, drag-out brawl between teenage siblings.
"And, do you want to guess what was the next thing out of that little fucker's mouth?"
"Uncle!...you win!...I give up!" Scott offered, a bit of sweat on his forehead.
"You got it." and Marty just cackled, placing his foot back on the floor.
Scott recovered. "Yeah, but that's a little brother; there's no real competition there. Doesn't count as a real contest. Tell us that you can do better than besting a little bro', bro'.
"One of these days I'll show you."
"In your dreams, bitch."
"oooohhh echoed both Brett and Craig." Both Scott and Marty just smiled.
After a couple of hours in the library, much of it spent mulling over the state of Maureen McCarthy's career and the 29th District, Scott walked back to the dorm, slowly. He was still pretty horned up after the foot play with Marty. Just about every guy he walked by looked like fair game to him. He thought about the noises he heard from the "James Brothers'" room this morning, about his meeting with Randy, and especially about his dalliance with Marty earlier in the evening. "Fuckin' A," he thought to himself, "If this is college life, I want to win the lottery so that I can become a student for life."
When he got back to the room, Craig was working at his computer, and it appeared clear that he was not up for much conversation. `Too bad,' Scott thought. He'd been thinking about ways he could approach Craig to check his level of understanding of Marty's extra-curricular habits. Nothing had been said to make him think Craig could be of any real help, but a conversation might get the ball rolling. Marty had his blood boiling, and Randy only added fuel to the fire. Worse yet, Marty was obviously playing the field big time, and Randy was not approachable.
"Gonna head to the lounge," he tossed out to Craig, and got a nod of approval. "And, I won't print anything else in the early hours, bud. Sorry `bout that. Are you in for the night?"
"Gonna finish up here in a little bit. Marty called, so I think I'm gonna head up there and chill with him and Brett for a while. C'mon up if you want. And thanks about the printer. Don't want to be a pain in the ass, but that fucker makes a lot of noise. Weird how I can sleep through the clock radio, but I heard that mother almost as soon as you hit print." Craig was shifting his gaze between the screen and his notebook.
"Not a problem. See ya' later...or tomorrow."
"'Night."
There was a common room on each floor of the dorm. Three couches, a couple of recliners, four chairs that didn't reline and a 25-inch TV occupied each room. Walking in, one sees the back of one of the couches. Scott saw a forearm and hand draped over the arm of the couch, and the foot resting on the back of the same. Coming around the end of that couch, he almost bust out of his shorts to see Jesse laying there, wearing a pair of shorts and tank top. In that reclined position, with one arm under his head and his leg propped up on the back of the couch, he looked spectacular. His very hard body, huge arms, huge pecs, thick thighs, all looked very lickable at this moment.
Scott sat down on the nearest couch. It formed an "L" with the one Jesse was on. "`sup?" he asked, trying to be as casual as he could. He plopped lengthwise facing Marty with his back resting on the arm, laying his left leg on the cushions with his right foot on the floor.
"Hey! How's it goin,' man?" Jesse smiled warmly. He always seemed to exude a certain warmth that Scott found attractive.
Scott was happy to get an enthusiastic response and a killer smile. Jesse's white teeth looked like pearls framed by his gorgeous bronze face. He sat up a little bit, and locked his fingers behind his head. His arms flexed mightily with every move.
A "Seinfeld" rerun was playing on cable.
"So where's Frank? I don't think I've ever seen one of you without the other nearby. I was starting to think you were joined at the hip."
"He's got a Monday night class, but you're right, it does feel that way at times" Jesse offered with a slight grin. "We've been buds for so long, I can't remember a time when we didn't rely on each other. More like brothers...each other's security blanket, sort of. Even our folks have become very close through our friendship."
At the same moment, both guys looked over at the TV and joined the script in progress. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," they said along with Jerry, right on cue. Each looked at the other and laughed. "This one's a classic," Jesse offered.
Returning to the topic at hand, Scott complemented Jesse. "That's very cool. Good to know that your best bud always has your back. I'm the only one from my high school class who came to Madison, so I'm sort of starting from scratch."
Jesse lowered his leg from the back of the couch, closing the spread eagle view that Scott was really enjoying. He put both feet on the floor and leaned back on the couch. Happily, he spread his legs again, but folded his hands and laid them on his cock.
He looked back at Scott. "You seem to be doing o.k. for yourself. You make friends easily, don't you?" Scott shrugged and nodded. Then he got a little bold and decided to change the topic a little.
"So, you always such a morning person?"
"Huh?"
"I've been an early riser for years, unless of course I've been over-served controlled substances and alcohol." Jesse chuckled. "Was on my way to the showers before six this morning, and heard the tunes playing as I went by the room. I've been a fan of The Who for a long time. Have to admit that I paused to enjoy the music on my way out of the building a little later."
Jesse's face registered little emotion. "Really?"
Scott smirked. "Yeah, sounded like quite a workout. I was tempted to knock and invite myself in."
Jesse was replaying the morning's romp with Frank in his head. `Could he have heard us?' he thought, and just as quickly answered himself. He locked the fingers of both hands behind his head and leaned back a bit. His biceps reacted magically to the added pressure on his arms. He rolled his eyes a little and grinned while shaking his head back and forth, and Scott thought he could detect a bit of blushing.
"Busted, huh?"
"Sounded like somebody was being busted open."
"Yeah, I guess we got a little carried away today."
There was quite a pause, and then, without moving his head Jesse looked over out of the corners of his eyes and sort of leered at Scott. "So, why didn't you knock?"
"Didn't want to intrude. I don't like to go where I'm not sure I'm welcome. Besides, I was on sort of a mission today and needed to take care of business."
"Who said you wouldn't have been welcomed? You did say that you owed us one, ya' know. The more the merrier." Jesse wiggled his eyebrows.
Scott was weighing several possible responses. Before he chose one, there was a shadow in the doorway. Frank's face came around the corner.
"Hey bro, there you are. I'm back." He smiled and nodded at Scott, "How's it goin' man?"
"It's all good here. Night class, huh?"
Frank leaned against the door frame and shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "This night class is going to suck a bit, but the TA who leads it seems pretty cool. I'm goin' back to the room. Jess, you got your key?"
Jesse held up his room key and Frank nodded as he turned. "Later."
"Hey, hold up bud." Jesse jumped off the couch and caught Frank a few steps outside the doorway. They chatted in hushed tones for a few seconds, and Frank glanced back into the room. Frank thought for a second, then shrugged and grinned a little. Scott thought he read his lips, "sure, why not?" Frank turned and left, and Jesse sauntered back to the couch.
They watched the rest of the sitcom, each stealing glances of the other for about fifteen minutes. As the show's final credits were rolling, Jesse sat up and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked up and smiled. "Frank's rolling a joint even as I speak. Wanna stop back at the room and relax a bit with the `James Brothers?'"
"Why not? Craig's busting the books. I got all my shit done for the day and a bit of a buzz is never a bad thing." Scott was thrilled by the invitation, especially coming on the heels of the conversation he'd been having with Jesse a little earlier. Still, he tried to keep his expectations realistic, not wanting to finish the night with a bad case of blue balls.
Frank was sitting on the edge of his bed, at the far end of the room when they entered. The guys had procured a tray from the cafeteria that was used as something of a work station for processing their marijuana. The tray was still on his knees, and he had fashioned not one, but two, fairly fat joints. Seeds, a few stems and greenis brown flecks littered the rest of the tray. Jesse's bed was right behind the door, on the near side of the room. The layout was, of course, identical to Scott and Craig's, and Jesse had the same side of the room as Scott.
"I found this homeless drug fiend wandering around outside. Hope you don't mind I brought him home. Can I keep him?" Frank chuckled. `Barenaked Ladies' was playing in the CD player, the volume turned down considerably lower than The Who was playing this morning.
"The more the merrier," Frank grinned and sort of leered at Scott. "So who has the lighter?"
Jesse rooted around his dresser for a few seconds, felt around on the top of his bed, then finally got down on all fours and checked under his bed, his perfect firm ass advertising itself as he looked for a light. Both Frank and Scott stared and both salivated more than a little. Reaching under the bed, Jesse finally came up with a Bic.
Rather than sit on his own bed, or take one of the two desk chairs in the room, Jesse walked over and sat on the floor beneath Frank's bed, just to his left. He motioned for Scott to join him on the floor, and Scott plopped down in front of the dressers between the two beds. The three chatted, a little uncomfortably, about the first week of classes. Scott learned that the James Boys were both business majors, though Frank wasn't ruling out the thought of pursuing law school later on. "He wants to suck the life out of business owners who are only guilty of being ignorant of federal tax rules and regulations," said Jesse. What they don't end up giving the government, they'll owe him. From his position on the floor, he knocked his buddy's shin. Frank smacked Jesse's big shoulder and then grabbed his own package saying, "suck the life out of this, boy." The bulge that Frank held tight looked considerable.
As the dope had taken hold of all three, they hummed and partially sang their way through "If I Had A Million Dollars," smiling and chuckling a good deal along the way. Jesse's head leaned back on the bed, and a few times it appeared to Scott as though Frank was absent-mindedly stroking the back of his scalp. Once, while passing the joint, Jesse's large right arm was extended upward toward Frank, and he rested it for a while across the guy's thighs.
Scott took another hit, and offered what little was left to his friends. Both waved it off, and Jesse held up an ash try to snuff it out. Cotton mouth set in, more quickly than usual given the quality of the dope. "Got anything to drink in here?" Scott asked.
"Only the sink," Frank motioned with his head, his hand not leaving the spot on the edge of the bed where Jesse's head was resting.
"Hey," Scott offered. "Me and Craig...or is it Craig and I?... anyway we got a little fridge for the room. Got some beers over there. Who wants one?"
The guys looked at one another and each seemed to read the other's mind. "If you go to get the brews, is Craig comin' back with you? Nothing against the guy, but I don't think we can offer him the same buzz."
Frank's question, and his explanation, were lame as hell. Scott had seen him rolling a second joint, and watched him hide his stash in his sock drawer before the door was closed when he first arrived. There was another joint on the tray he'd slid under the bed, and more dope in the dresser. They wanted Scott to go and get the beers, but they also wanted him to come back solo. Maybe a very good sign,' he thought, but then silently commanded his thickening cock, down boy!'
"Nah. He was pro'ly heading up to Marty and Brett's crib," said Scott, though it was a little of a struggle to spit it out. But, he was happy to know that they wanted him to come back by himself. He could feel some considerable attention being paid at to him the moment, and it stroked his ego. He started to stand up, and, taking a faulty step backward, felt a hand on his ass, giving him some welcomed support. From where they were both sitting, it could've been either Frank's or Jesse's, and he didn't care which.
As he opened the door, Jesse said "hit the latch so it's unlocked, but don't forget to lock it again when you get back." Jesse wiggled his eyebrows up and down when Scott looked back to acknowledge. Scott unlocked the door and quietly closed it. He sauntered down the hall, pleading to some higher power that it could be true that he really was wandering head long into his first three-way with two other guys. He felt his cock hardening at the thought. He quickened his pace. At the door to his room he struggled a bit with the key from the combined effects of anticipation and some very high quality weed. He grabbed three Leine's out of the fridge, opened one and took a big gulp. Then he headed back down the hallway hoping this was going where he thought it was.
Before he had the door all the way opened, he saw Jesse's shorts sitting on the floor, suggesting they'd been tossed clear across the room. His turquoise muscle shirt was draped across the back of the chair. He hit the latch again, locking the door, and closed it behind him.
Jesse was sitting on the bed leaned back, his hands behind him, and his legs were spread wide. Frank didn't even look up, his head slowly bobbing up and down on Jesse's hard member. Scott heard slurping noises and quiet moans of approval from both guys.
"Frank had a bad case of the munchies, too, and wanted something to eat. I'm never one to deny him," Jesse said with a bit of a giggle. Scott walked over to the guys and stood on Frank's right, admiring his technique. He opened a beer and handed it to Jesse, and looked down to get a look at his goods. Jesse's dick was shorter than Scott's, but considerably thicker. Frank seemed to be exerting considerable effort to get it all the way in his mouth, though he was obviously up to the task. His t-shirt had been pulled up over his head, giving Jesse access to his nipples. Jesse's right hand was taking advantage of that access, rubbing Frank's chest and rolling first one, then the other nipple between his fingers.
Jesse took a drink of the beer, smiled a "thanks" to Scott, and then put it down and went for the drawstring on Scott's shorts.
"Kind of hungry myself," he leered up at Scott, "anything to eat in here?" he asked, starting to grope at Scott's growing cock through the front of his shorts.
"Yeah...but it's self-service," Scott whispered, as Jesse grabbed at the elastic of the shorts. The shorts came down, and Scott's semi-hard cock stared Jesse in the face. He stepped out of the shorts and kicked them behind him. Jesse took firm hold of the tool, and hungrily pulled Scott closer to the bed. Leaning a bit to his left, but not so far as to disrupt Frank's work, he stuck out his tongue and rolled it around the head. Scott gasped lightly, took another drink from his can, and leaned over to set it on the desk. Scott moved in, close enough so that Jesse could continue to reach Frank with his right hand, alternating it from rubbing the top and back of his buddy's head and tweaking either nipple. With his left, he kept hold of Scott's hard cock, and went to work slowly licking it up and down. Then, with one fell swoop, he thrust his head down, and Scott felt the head slide into Jesse's throat.
"God damn!" Scott whispered. "Mmmmmm...so fucking good." Jesse looked up and smiled, and paused to reach for the remote. He turned up the volume on the CD player a bit, just in case the action that was coming got any louder.
It would.
As Scott pulled off his t-shirt, Frank came off Jesse's cock and stood. The very pronounced hard on under his shorts made Scott gasp a bit.
"Gotta come up for some air, he smirked." He wiped his lips and chin, drying off the mixture of saliva and precum that had made the lower half of his face glisten. He pulled his shirt the rest of the way off, revealing a very trim and toned, if somewhat skinny, body. He was moderately hairy, and his nipples stuck out like small firm erasers. He opened the beer and took a big gulp, then in very slow, suggestive motions, peeled off his shorts.
"Jeeeezus...what a monster!" Scott exclaimed. "What is that, about ten inches?" Frank actually blushed a little.
Jesse looked up and tried to sound serious. "Nope, only nine. Can't tell you what a disappointment it's been. But, what're you gonna do?" He never stopped stroking Scott's seven incher. Frank put down the beer and stepped over to the two, bringing his cock with inches of Scott's.
"Yeah, what are you gonna do?" Frank asked, as Jesse grabbed the enormous dick with his free hand. "Looks to me like he's getting greedy," Frank said to Scott.
"I don't mind," moaned Scott as Frank inched closer and put his right hand around his waist, pulling the two men closer. Jesse began alternating from one to the other, licking and sucking. Frank moved his hand up Scott's back, behind his head, and pulled his face close to his own. Their lips mashed together, mouths partially open, and they engaged in a very wet, moaning tongue battle.
Jesse paused from his dick feast and looked up. "Frank's a great kisser, it's another reason I keep him around, besides this," Jesse said before diving back down on Franks huge pole. Scott had begun playing with Frank's nipples, and was met with gasps and moans of pleasure.
"And Jesse's the best cock sucker there is," Frank whispered as he flicked his tongue in and out of Scott's ear, shooting electric jolts through Scott's entire body. "Show him your real skill, buddy." Jesse looked up and smiled, and Scott's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw Jesse smoothly and slowly swallow all nine inches. With Jesse's nose buried in Frank's public hair, the recipient let out a low, "God Damn! I...so...love... it ...when...he...does...that."
"Shit, boys, I'm not going to be the only one going away hungry tonight," said Scott, as he removed Jesse's hand from his cock. He went to his knees, and spread Jesse's legs a bit further to gain access to his dick. Not only was the tool a good deal thicker than his own, but Jesse owned two of the largest balls Scott had ever seen. He grabbed the cock, and admired the careful shaving that Jesse had administered to the entire area. The pubic hairs were neatly trimmed, and Jesse's entire cock and ball sac were smoothly shaven clean. Scott wondered if he'd ever start shaving down below, but doubted that he would. He then began repaying the remarkable oral attention his friend had been giving him. With some effort, he got most of it in his mouth, being very mindful of his teeth, and Jesse's reaction confirmed that he was doing a very capable job.
His eyes closed, Scott could hear Jesse's mouth slurping and slobbering on Frank's massive pole, with Frank moaning his approval. Then, the sounds stopped and he felt Frank move out of what he knew was a very hot picture. Jesse leaned further back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows, and looked down to admire the work that Scott was performing. Before he figured out what was going on, Scott felt a pair of hands on his ass. Scott felt the backs of Frank's hands on his inner thights, nudging his legs a bit further apart. Reaching between Scott's legs, Frank started stroking his cock and the moaning that it elicited sent shock waves through Jesse's most sensitive areas. Scott felt Frank gently take hold of his ballsac and pull it back, and Frank's tongue came into contact with his nuts while Frank gently ran his hand over his lower back and his ass. Frank took Scott's balls into his mouth, and then pulled his stiff member backwards, sucking it in with incredible hunger. As hard as he was, the backward angle was a little uncomfortable, but Frank compensated well with plenty of thoughtful oral attention, alternating his mouth from the cock to the balls.
Frank started heading north with his tongue. Off of Scott's cock, up to his balls again, and then began hungrily licking and sucking the perenium. Scott wanted to pay total attention to Jesse's cock and balls, but the sensations on his own backside were driving him crazy. He moaned again, causing Jesse to writhe with pleasure. Frank spread Scott's ass cheeks and stuck his tongue out. Slowly lapping upward several times, he covered the entire area with his spit. Frank then focused in on Scott's hole. His pink pucker was twitching, and Frank was hungry. He buried his face into the crevace and plunged his tongue forward. Meeting some resistance at first, Frank persisted, as he felt his tongue gain entry, Scott's head came off of Jesse's dick and he moaned "Oooohh, God Dammit!! Eat me, you fucker. God Dammit Eat me!!"
In an instance, his lust was jolted off the radar screen, only to be replaced by fear and dread. "He's gonna try to fuck me!" he thought. He didn't want to stop what he was working on, never letting his hand go of Jesse's cock. On the one hand, he was loving Frank's tongue jutting in and out of and around his hole, but he worried that Frank might be preparing him for entry. Coming off of Jesse's cock for a second, he looked behind him. "Frank...dude...I don't get fucked. I've never been fucked, and sure as hell won't start with your python. Even if I wanted it, I think you'd kill me."
Jesse giggled, then pulled his head up off the bed and looked down at Scott. "It can be done, dude. I'm living proof, and you'd love it. But maybe you're right. Frank might not be the guy to take your virgin hole."
Frank sat up and leaned back on his heels. His mouth, chin and most of his nose were wet with spit. "What do ya' mean, babe? This was the first cock to break into your fine ass, and you've been loving it ever since. Relax, Scott, I wasn't aiming at nailing this ass, as sweet as it is." He rubbed his hand in circles around Scott's ass cheeks. "Me and Jess take turns anyway. This morning it was him riding me that you heard. It's his turn to throw his legs in the air, and I want to share his sweet smooth ass tonight.
Ready for a ride?"
As Frank was speaking, Jesse grabbed Scott's wrist and removed his hand from his hot, wet cock. He got up and reached in the top drawer of his dresser. Pulling out a condom and some lube, he looked down at Scott and Frank, both on their knees on the floor, groping and sucking each others' mouths. Jesse opened the bottle of Wet and squirted several generous drops onto a couple of his fingers, then handed the bottle and the rubber to his best friend.
"Wrap him up, babe, and let's see what he's got going."
Frank pushed Scott back a bit and ripped open the wrapper of the Maxim. Grabbing Scott's throbbing dick, he stroked it a bit, and then licked it along the shaft several times, thoroughly wetting the entire surface. He unrolled the rubber an inch, and wrapped it around his head. Then he went down and, using his mouth, pushed the sheath along the full length of Scott's shaft. Before sitting back up, he grabbed Scott's balls and gave them a thorough tongue bath.
By this time, Jesse was on his back. about a foot away, already holding onto his knees with his legs slightly lifted. His olive toned body was glistening with sweat, the massive pecs heaving with every breath. Scott moved on his knees between Jesse's legs as Frank scooted back a bit toward Jesse's head. Scott leaned in, his cock hovering about an inch above Jesse's. Jesse slid his arms above his head on the floor, and moved his legs to make room. Scott brought his head down, and grabbed each one of Jesse's wrists, pinning him to the floor. "What do you want?" he breathed into his face.
"I want you to fuck me! I want that big dick inside of me. I want you to ride me, and I want my best bud to watch you take this ass and make it all your own." Jesse's voice was hoarse. He lifted his head up and stuck his tongue into Scott's mouth. Pulling away quickly, he gazed sternly into Scott's eyes. "Fuck me!!"
Scott grabbed Jesse's legs behind the knees and lifted a bit further. He put Jesse's left leg over his right shoulder, grabbed his own aching dick with his right hand, and aimed it at Jesse's waiting hole. Everything was wet and slippery; his hand, his cock, his own brow and Jesse's entire body. And, Jesse's ass.
At the top of his view, just over Jesse's right shoulder, Scott could see Frank leaning back on his heels, stroking his big member and smiling broadly as he tweaked his own nipples. The head of Scott's cock made contact, perfect contact, with the center of Jesse's hole. It slid in a lot easier than Marty's had given way, and it surprised him. But, it was a happy surprise. Jesse gasped, and closed his eyes. "Oh, God! That's what I want," he moaned as Scott situated himself to gain maximum leverage. As Scott maneuvered the rest of his stick into this very hot hole, Jesse's eyes opened a little, but Scott could only see the whites. Jesse's eye's had rolled back in his head. He gritted his teeth and formed a smile and groaned, "grrrrrrr, yeah man, fuck me! Gimme all you got!! Fuckin' ay, man!" Without opening his eyes or looking up, Jesse reached out. "Where you at, Frank? Like what you see? Talk to me, baby."
As Scott started building up a rhythm, in and out of Jesse's willing ass, Frank scooted forward on his knees. "I'm right here, babe, ain't goin' nowhere. Give the man your ass. God, you're hot, taking that tool like a man!" Scott took his left hand and grabbed Frank's massive dripping dick. With one hand on the floor and his dick grinding in and out of Jesse, Scott leaned in and swallowed as much of Frank as he could, deeper than he'd ever had a cock before. He wasn't deep-throating the young stud, yet, but he had the presence of mind to make a mental note: `need to learn how to deep throat. Gotta fuckin' learn how to deep throat.'
Scott was long-dicking the beauty below him, slowly but firmly. Bringing his cock nearly all the way out, he'd pause and slowly slide it in until he thought it could go no further. Each time, Jesse expressed his gratitude with a firm grab of Scott's ass and a low moan, "yeah!"
Jesse's hands came off of Scott's ass. Scott needed no further encouragement to plow as deep and hard as he could. Jesse grabbed hold of Scott's forearms and lifted his head off the floor. Scott returned the gesture, locking his own hands onto Jesse's huge arms. Taking his mouth off of Frank's dripping dick, Scott pulled up on Jesse's arms as his legs closed tightly around Scott's hips. Their hands and arms were locked, each pair of limbs feeling like a single piece of machinery, Scott leaned back, pulling Jesse off the floor. The muscle stud's ass came off the floor, impaled on Scott's member. Scott began wildly thrusting his hips, bouncing Jesse's ass off his cock, rabbit thumping the firm smooth ass, and Jesse began to whimper. "Oh God, Oh God, Fuck me you bastard!!" Scott thought he heard Frank gasp, "God Damn! So...fucking...hot!!
After about a minute of this off-the-floor ass banging, the combination of sweat, gravity and exhaustion forced Scott to lower Jesse back to the floor.
Both had wild smiles on their faces. Sweat was dripping off of Scott's face and onto Jesse's. Scott drove his dick back in as hard as he could. He kept it there as he leaned in and kissed Jesse passionately. For several seconds, it was a fight as to who could keep his tongue in the others' mouth the longest. There was no clear winner.
Scott propped himself back up on his hands, slowing the pummeling that he was giving the power bottom beneath him. He saw Frank, scooting on his knees back into view. He was glad. Not that he needed any more attention, but he was still glad. Frank maneuvered himself with one knee on each side of Jesse's face. He slowly lowered his ass hole onto Jesse's waiting mouth.
"Eat me," he whispered. As Jesse's tongue explored Franks waiting hole, as able to lean forward and bend far enough to bring his mouth onto Franks mammoth tool while he continued to work his cock in and out of Jesse.
Frank was beside himself. "Oh, Fuck! You two are too fucking much."
Scott had to come back up to take a breath. He gasped twice, then he grabbed the hair on the back of Frank's head, pulling him to his mouth. He continued fucking the young stud beneath him, and enjoyed hearing the moans he was giving, muffled by Frank's ass cheeks and his well-eaten hole.
"Gettin' close. Gettin' very fuckin' close," Scott whimpered into Frank's mouth. He could feel the sensation beginning somewhere around his tonails, and coming on fast. As much as he did not want this to end, he knew how much he needed to explode. Frank was furiously working his own dick and he whimpered, "aw fuck! Me too! Take it out and lose the rubber. I want to see you shoot that load all over my boy."
Scott frantically removed his throbbing cock and peeled off the condom as he pinned down Jesse's thighs beneath his own. Five or six strokes later, it came. Scott groaned mightily, and as quietly as he could, but he thought it could've been heard in the hallway. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" Thrusting his hips far forward, the first shot went over Jesse's face and hit Frank in the abdomen. The next one hit Jesse squarely in the face, and got an approving "oh yeah!" from both of his partners. With successive "mmphs," he fired three or four more times, spraying Jesse's chest and stomach with white.
Jesse and Frank came at the exactly same time, only seconds after Scott. A chorus of "oooohhh, shiiiitttt," and "Fuuuuuuuccccckkkk!" accompanied the frenzy. Jesse's jizz mingling with Scott's and Frank added his contribution to the pool. Frank's first volley hit Scott's thigh, and the second watered his buddy's cock and ballsac. Scott opened his eyes and looked down to see Jesse using his mouth to clean off Frank's deflating tool. Frank scooted backward, and brought his face down to his roommate's. They both chuckled a little, and Frank stuck out his tongue and licked a healthy stream of cum off of Jesse's face, then shared it with him in slow, passionate kiss. It was anybody's guess whose juice they were sharing, but Scott imagined it to be his.
After a couple of minutes down time, each just laying on the floor, they shared a towel that Frank had grabbed from his closet. After cleaning off, but not quite regaining normal breathing or full strength, each lounged on the floor for a bit. Frank's head was laying in Jesse's lap, while Jesse and Scott played some footsie and Frank gently massaged Scott's shin. Each one had found a beer, nobody certain it was the same one they'd opened, but they didn't care. They were exhausted, parched and completely satisfied.
Like the previous Saturday with Marty, Scott and the guys chatted for a while as they enjoyed the afterglow of some very good sex. The James Brothers educated Scott on their own sexual history, starting with some adventurous horseplay in about the sixth grade, and gradually growing into the mind-blowing licking and sucking and fucking that they'd just enjoyed.
Jesse asked, "so, you gotta partner? Are you and Craig doin' it?"
Scott laughed. "Naw, I'm as much into women as I am into dudes, and then some. Just haven't found any here in Madison. And Craig? He's a great guy, and I think we're probably going to be buddies-for-life, but the guy does nothin' for my dick."
Jesse looked at Frank and rolled his eyes. "Christ!! Another part time breeder!" Looking back at Scott, he said, "Frank likes to share that monster of his with the ladies too, or at least that's what he says."
"What he says?" Frank asked, manufacturing the right tone and expression of shock. "There's at least one young lass who had a hard time walking straight this morning because of the banging I gave her the other night, and you know it, bitch!" He reached up and pinched Jesse's left nipple and Jesse squirmed and giggled, swatting his roommate's hand. "I can't help it.
I have a gift, and it's only right that I share it as far and wide as is humanly possible."
"And you, Jesse?" Scott asked.
"Nah. I tried pussy, but I know what I like. And I know that Frank's gonna be there to take care of what I need, or even what I want. We have a deal, a long-term understanding."
"And that is...?"
"Like I said earlier, this is my "brother," through thick and thin. Covering the other's back at every turn. Solid as concrete, him and me. Besides that, he knows that if he quits fucking around with me, and I cut off his dick and make it into a necklace."
"Sounds like the perfect understanding to me. You boys got it good. But, don't quit doin' him, Frank. That'd be a huge loss." Scott was fishing around for his clothes by this time, while Frank and Jesse remained cuddled up on the floor. "Gotta get going," he said, "too much to do tomorrow. Thanks guys, we gotta do this again some time."
The James Brothers looked at each other, and both nodded, "definitely!" they said in unison. "Next time," Jesse whispered with a leer on his face, "I get to watch you fuck Frank, or..."
"Not in a million years, not with that demon he packs, but hold onto that first thought." Scott double-checked to see that the door was on "lock," and made his exit. "Thanks again." The brothers held up their beer cans in a salute "g'night."