Strange Bedfellows

STRANGE BEDFELLOWS Chapter Twenty-Six

Disclaimer: This story is a mostly fictional account of the author's many relationships and experiences while a college student. It includes sometimes graphic depictions of sexual activity between consenting men. If it is illegal for you to download, possess or read such material, then please move on to something more appropriate in your area. This story is copyrighted, 2007, and may not be reproduced, reposted or reprinted without the expressed written consent of the author. Hope you enjoy.

The slap of his thighs against Kip's ass should have awakened anybody in the house. If that wouldn't have done it, Kip's growling pleas surely would have.

"Fuck me, stud! Come on...fuck me harder!!" Kip's fingertips dug into the mattress as far as the laws of physics would allow.

A single bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of Scott's nose and dripped onto Kip's broad, heaving chest. He gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts, drilling his well lubed, rock hard member in and out of the frat boy's eager chute.

Kip's eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned deliriously. "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! That's it, Turner! Yeah! Yeah!"

Scott's right hand came off the mattress shoulder high, and came down with a firm smack on the taut ass of this willing bottom boy. "Gimme that fuckin' ass, frat boy! Come on Kip! Who owns this ass?"

"Ooooooohh, yeah," Kip squealed. "It's all yours, dude. This ass has your name all over it. Fuck it! Come on, Turner, fuck that hole!"

"No!" Scott shot straight up in bed.

On the opposite end of the room, Craig mirrored his movement. "What!?" He looked over at his roommate who was sitting upright and panting. He could see that Scott was perspiring and heard the heavy breathing. "Scott? What the fuck?"

Scott flopped back and draped his forearm across his eyes. "No more cold pepperoni, onion and mushroom pizza right before bed time. Sorry, buddy. Bad dream." He rubbed his eyes and coughed. `Actually, not that bad,' he considered to himself.

Scott walked into the office in a hurry. "Hey Radar. How's it goin?"

"Same old, same old. Spring fever runs rampant."

"Anybody reporting that they can't make tomorrow's meeting?"

"Nope. Practically everybody's responded that they'll be there. The same two or three haven't gotten back to me yet, but they're always late and haven't missed a meeting all year."

Scott nodded as he opened a folder. "Good. Hey, will you call the reporter over at `The Cardinal?' Just tell her she's gonna want to be at tomorrow's meeting. I'll have a couple of announcements that might interest her and her editors. And then," he hesitated and smiled meekly, "and ya' know I usually do my own typing, but I need to ask you to do a little clerical, secretarial shit if you would."

The clerk grinned. "Scott, that's what I'm here for."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't like to heap the grunt work on you all the time. Anyway, I wrote this out by hand during the dreadful lecture I just endured. That bozo does nothing but regurgitate the text material we've already read. Would you type this up for me? Note the `cc:' at the bottom and do two copies, will ya'? Make it three, so that I have one for my files. If you have any questions, I'll be in the office for about an hour, then need to head to the Board meeting." He bounded up the stairs.

Walter surveyed the notebook paper. "Aw shit," he muttered under his breath.

Four hours later Andy put a smile on his face. It was one of the phoniest grins Scott had ever seen. "And last but not least, ladies and gentlemen, our budget committee finally has a recommendation on our request to the governor. It's been a long and somewhat bumpy road, but that hard working group got the job done. As the chair of the committee, I want to extend my sincerest thanks to the other five members who tackled this task. In a nutshell, we've crafted a set of requests that will maintain all current services with some slight reductions in instructional and support staff. It asks our talented educators to carry a slightly bigger burden, and it asks the students to pony up additional tuition payments at the same increase as the expected rise in the cost of living, roughly four point seven percent next year. It asks the governor for more money than he would like, but it's defensible, it's rational and it's practical. I feel it's a request that each of us can stand behind and support with vigor."

Abby patted Scott's arm, leaned over and whispered. "Don't know how you did it, son, but your grandma always told me that you, as she put it, `have a set.' Good work."

Pennington continued. "You've only had a few days to review the proposal, so are there any questions about this mammoth budget recommendation?"

Abby raised a hand. "Not a question, Andy, but a brief statement, if I may." Pennington gestured with his hand that the floor was hers. "Folks, even though I am a member of the committee that drafted this proposal, I've been unable to participate fully for about the past month. The other five had a chance to vote on this last week, and I did not. Nevertheless, I want to chime in now. Governor Hackett is not going to like this. Not one bit. Given that political fact, I think it's vital that this Board approve it unanimously and loudly. Any crack in our resolve as the governing board responsible for this system will give the powers that be under the dome a signal that these demands are questionable and perhaps easily subject to change. If Theodore Hackett or our legislative leaders choose to alter this request, they need to do so of their own accord, with nobody to blame but themselves. With that in mind, Mr. Chairman, I'd request that this be acted on with a roll call vote, and that the clerk record all the aye's and nay's."

Andy nodded. "All you need to do is make that request, and it shall be done Ms. Svendsen. But first, we need a motion to adopt the committee's recommendation."

Scott cleared his throat. "So moved."

"Is there a second?"

Abby smiled. "Proudly!"

"Motion by Regent Turner, seconded by Regent Svendsen to approve the UW System budget request for the next biennium. The clerk will call the roll."

Fourteen names were called, all of them answering "aye." Finally, it was Scott's turn to vote on a nearly five percent increase in student tuition, an increase which he'd basically forced down Andy's throat by figuratively twisting his balls; an increase that flew in the face of the resolution his own Student Senate had forced on him. "Aye," Scott said with confidence.

There was a short round of applause. "And with that, ladies and gentlemen, we are adjourned."

Abby patted Scott on the back again as he stood. He leaned down and pulled her into an embrace. "Thanks for everything, Abby. You're the best." On his way toward the door he paused and handed Andy an envelope. "This copy is for you, Mr. Pennington. I put the original to the governor in the mail on the way over here."

When the room was clear, Andy pulled the single page from its envelope. "Well...I'll be damned."

That evening, Andy looked across the table at Denny's into the cynical face of Bruce Weeden, reporter for `The State Journal.' "You're the one who asked about reasonable tuition increases, Bruce. The questions you threw at me during that press conference basically whined about the fact that student increases haven't even been at the cost of living for far too long, according to you. This budget proposal delivers what your question begged. The student increase next year will be equal to the expected increase in cost of living for the average guy and gal in Wisconsin. Shit, it could even be a little higher, depending on how the economy works its way out. They'll be paying their fair share as you yourself defined it when I was elevated to the chairmanship. Our challenge was tough, but we got the job done, and I'd hope that your paper can get behind this. The kids will raise hell over a nearly five percent increase, but what would you expect? They'd bitch about a dollar increase. And we even have the student on the Board supporting this. It's one of the biggest increases they've seen in a long time, but we're maintaining practically all the core principles and services that this great system provides the state."

Weeden sighed as he paged through the summary of the budget request that was on its way to the governor. "Could have been more, but I guess you're right. I'll talk to the boss, and I'll do a column for the op-ed page. Maybe the whole editorial board will get on the train."

The following morning, Scott returned from the shower and poured a cup of coffee. He noticed "1 missed call" lit up on his cell phone's screen. He checked the memory and recognized Maureen's direct office number. He checked the voice mail. "Scotty, it's Maureen. I know it's kind of early, but give me a call if you have a couple of minutes. Love ya'." Craig patted him on the shoulder on his way to the door to leave for class.

Scott sat on his bed and pushed "call" on Maureen's office number. She answered the phone herself. "You're in early today, Maureen. Just got your message. What's up?"

She started to laugh. "What in the hell have you done, you little shit? Ted Hackett is having a flippin' cow! He just about keeled over yesterday when he got news of the Regents' request. He sees this is some brazen act of defiance from a group of people he feels owe their positions to him. Only a four point seven percent increase in tuition? How'd you do it, Scotty?"

Scott chuckled. "Well, I stuck to my guns with Pennington, and he finally agreed that a hike much greater than the cost of living would be unfair, but that this one would be more than we've seen in the recent past. Then the two of us, with Abby's help, persuaded the rest of the Board to get behind it."

Maureen sighed. "Ted's already called me this morning about what he's calling the shit in the paper.' Have you seen The Journal' yet today? Even Bruce Weeden is applauding the recommendation, and his voice in the business community is a big one. Ted's flipping out about the fast press. You folks are quickly putting him in a corner, and he hates that."

Scott smiled. "Oh well. Too bad, so sad. Andy and me sat down after the awards luncheon and agreed how we'd spin it,' if you will. We planned a public relations offensive of sorts. Andy's office is sending press releases to the papers in and around all of the Regents' home areas. The theme we're generating is that this is the responsible thing to do for the state's budget and the sake of educational opportunity for Wisconsin's young people. Each of the members will be quoted in their own areas about how proud they are of the work we've done, and how they expect that the governor will include it, untouched, in his budget request to you guys. Trying to kick up some positive ink statewide. Then, Andy got to the pencil-necked geek at The Journal,' Weeden, in a hurry. I'm pitching the same message to the student press at tonight's meeting. I'm probably going to take it in the shorts from a bunch in the WSA, I think, `cuz I defied their orders, but I can handle it. It's worth it. I'll just have to suck it up, and I think I have a solution that will satisfy them. I hope so, anyway. We'll see."

"Well, well, well. You have been a busy boy. You know that your PR effort is going to put the pressure on the rest of us too, right?" Maureen chuckled one more time.

Scott's voice faked innocence. "Oh, my. It never occurred to me." He giggled.

"Now Maureen," Scott took a more authoritative tone than he probably ever had with his teacher. "I hope you won't begrudge me what I'm expecting of you now. You set me on the right course, and I did some heavy lifting. And now the ball's soon going to be in your court. Excuse me for saying so, my dear, but don't let this thing get fucked up once you and your political hacks in the legislature get your hands on it."

She guffawed, and he heard her hand hit the desk. "You ballsy little shit! I can't believe it! I've got a nineteen year old punk trying to boss around the State Senate Majority Leader. Listen to you!" She mocked his serious tone. "Just who in the hell do you think you are, young Mr. Turner?"

Scott's voice telegraphed the smile. "I'm your favorite little shit, and I know you won't let me down now."

She just snickered one more time. "Well, I'm meeting with the chair of the finance committee later this morning. I'll start greasing the skids in your favor with him. I'll talk to you later, honey. I'll keep you posted."

"Gotta get to class now, Maureen. Love ya'."

That evening, Scott walked into the lecture hall for the monthly WSA meeting. He looked around the room a bit confounded. Walter wasn't there yet, neither were Kip or Bart Morrison. He spent a few minutes chatting it up with a couple of the members, and nervously looked at the clock. It was already five minutes after starting time, and Scott was always preaching about starting on time. Out of the corner of his eye he caught some movement in the doorway. "Finally!" Kip walked in, followed by `Radar' and then Morrison.

"Sorry, Turner." Kip shrugged. "I needed to get some copies made, and there was a line at the damned machine."

Radar busied himself setting up his laptop. "Just another minute, chief, and I'll be good to go." He didn't look up at Scott, and he looked a little ill at ease.

Scott hurried the group through three scheduled business items that required action by the full body. Kip spent twenty minutes reviewing some of the more relevant highlights from the conference in San Diego. Finally, they'd arrived at the last item, "Update from Board of Regents."

Scott sighed and leaned on the podium. "Okay, I have two announcements to make regarding the most recent activity by the Board of Regents. First, we've completed the necessary action in preparing a budget request from the UW System to the governor. You should know that the request includes an increase of four point seven percent in student tuition for the next school year." The crowd groaned, and more than a few exchanged snide remarks. "And," he paused to regain everyone's attention. "I am on record as not only voting in favor, but as the one who moved it's adoption by the Board."

The collective groan grew in volume, and a few shouted "No! You didn't! You couldn't!"

Scott raised both hands to quiet the uproar. "Please! Let me explain!" It struck him as odd that Morrison wasn't on his feet shouting. Eventually, the din subsided.

"Okay, here's the deal. It could have been a lot worse. There was a time when we were looking at the real prospect of significant, double-digit increases over the next couple of years. I fought like hell to get it down to this level and I felt, in the end, that I had to support it. The governor's not going to like it anyway. Word is he's already, if I recall the expression I got this morning, `having a flippin' cow' over the request. And he can still change it. But we felt that the unanimous vote of The Regents sends the right signal that this was as high as it could go."

He looked at the reporter who was busily scribbling in her notebook. He waited until she was done writing and had looked back up at him. He spoke directly to her. "If Ted Hackett thinks our tuition should be increased more than that, he's going to have to do it himself. He can do that but he ought to be able to justify it, and he should have to explain why those of us who are simply trying to get a decent education should balance the state's budget. The important thing now is for all of us to signal our lawmakers and the governor's office that we won't tolerate anything higher than this. He needs to hear that a balanced budget is a good thing, but that he can't do it on the backs of the state's students." A few of the members began nodding.

"And," Scott sipped his Coke. "I knew I was violating the dictate you enacted in the resolution from Senator Morrison and the Committee on System Relations. Ignoring your mandate was intentional and it was defiant. Consequently, I need to notify you that I have submitted to Governor Hackett my resignation from the UW Board of Regents. Once I set my course on this thing, I concluded that I needed to do the best I could, but that I was forfeiting my right to claim to speak on your behalf within that body. Having willingly ignored your direct instructions, I cannot, in good conscience, continue in that capacity. This should serve as a `heads up' to Senator Morrison's committee that they'll likely need to recommend a new student member for the Board of Regents before the school year ends." A stunned silence fell over the room.

Kip stood. "Question of the chair!"

"Vice President Monmouth?"

"I'd like to know in what manner your resignation was communicated to the governor."

"Uhm...the good old fashioned U.S. Mail, with a copy of the letter handed to the chairman, Andrew Pennington."

"Is it safe to say, then, that Governor Hackett has not yet received your resignation?"

Scott mulled it over a moment. "Well, I dropped it in a mailbox yesterday afternoon, so it might have made it to the Capitol today, probably by tomorrow at least. I don't know how many desks it will cross on its way to the governor. But, yes, it's likely still in the pipeline and not actually received."

Kip nodded. "Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to add one item to this evening's agenda. I have a resolution I would like to submit to the body."

Scott was thoroughly confused. Walter nodded at him expectedly and mouthed `do it.'

Scott paused. "Er, is there objection to waive the rules and add another item to the agenda?" Both Walter and Kip shook their heads at the assembly. Silence.

Scott shrugged. "Hearing none, you have the floor, Kip."

"Mr. President, I offer this resolution in support of your continuing as the student representative to the Board." Morrison was distributing copies of the language they'd worked out, with Walter's help, prior to the meeting. "I understand, probably better than anyone in this room that your efforts in defense of the students we represent were genuine, they were sincere and they were hard fought. I am absolutely certain that, without your efforts, our students throughout the state would have been in for a royal screwing. This resolution waives the normal procedures for recommending a student for the governor's nomination to the Board. It notifies Theodore Hackett that he should refuse to accept your resignation. It puts him on notice that we'll just send your name back to him if he even bothers to ask who should replace you."

Scott's hands thrust forward and he shrugged, shaking his head. "But, he can nominate whomever he pleases to the State Senate for their confirmation."

"Mr. President!" Now Morrison was on his feet.

Scott pointed and nodded. "We know that he could. But ever since the law was passed to add a student to the Board, no governor has ever made the appointment without consulting the WSA. It would be unprecedented, and it would, in my estimation, be a politically foolish thing to do. Ted Hackett is many things, but he's not a fool. This resolution tells him up front that we would oppose the nomination of anybody other than Scott Turner, Jr."

Scott was stunned. The room was silent. Kip spoke up again. "Mr. President."

"Vice President Monmouth."

"I move the adoption of the resolution currently before the body."

"Mr. President."

"Senator Morrison."

"I second the motion, and urge a unanimous adoption of the resolution."

Scott took another drink of his Coke and shook his head. "I don't know what to say."

Out of the corner of his mouth, Walter whispered, "How about `all those in favor'?"

Scott finally smiled. "Okay. All those in favor?"

Thirty voices shouted in unison, "AYE!!" and the group broke into applause. Scott swallowed hard trying to quell the lump in his throat. Radar looked up at him and smiled.

About two minutes later, on a motion from Bart, the meeting was adjourned. Morrison glanced up toward the podium, gave Scott a smile and a thumbs-up, and left the room.

Kip walked over, grinning shyly. Scott shook his head and smiled. "You...son...of...a...bitch."

Kip's hands went up in mock defense. "Hey, it was Radar's idea. You know he's the one who's really in charge of this place anyway." His right hand came back down when Scott extended his. Scott gripped it firmly with a subtle grin.

Walter smiled sheepishly and shook his head while he saved the notes to his laptop and closed the lid.

Scott leaned over and patted the clerk's back. "I kinda figured whose little scheme this was, and I know he's really in charge, but he needed to get you and Bart on board."

Walter looked at Kip, and then back at Scott. "It wasn't hard." He patted Scott's shoulder. "I gotta get going chief. Got a date." He winked and headed for the door.

Kip delayed his exit. "You gonna deliver that to the governor's office, Radar?"

The clerk nodded. "Personally, first thing in the morning." He looked at Kip and winked again. "Welcome to my little club, Kip. G'night guys."

As he disappeared around the corner, Scott looked back at Kip. "Little club?"

Kip chuckled. "Inside joke, left over from the trip to San Diego." He handed Scott a half sheet of paper. It was a flier advertising a spring party. "Hey, Turner. I know it's usually beneath you to associate with us frat rat types, but we have a party every May for the graduating guys and gals in the houses. This year my house is hosting. Wanna come?"

"Jesus Christ, Kip! You're all full of surprises tonight. First you engineer my resurrection on the Board, and now an invite to socialize?" He narrowed his eyes. "Okay, who the hell are you and what have you done with Kip Monmouth?"

Kip chuckled as the two of them strolled toward the door. "Aaah, I figure it's getting late in my days around here. Not healthy to take hard feelings with me on the way out the door, huh?"

Scott nodded. "Maybe I'll drop in for a little while. Can I bring a friend?"

Kip stopped. "I heard you and Kelly had pretty much gone separate ways, but she'll probably be there anyway."

Scott shrugged. "Yeah, well, we have cooled it on that front. But I wasn't thinking of Kelly."

Scott jogged to catch up, and grabbed onto the backpack. "Watcha doin' this afternoon, Mr. Special Advisor?"

Marty jumped. "Shit, man! You scared the hell out of me! Got one more class, then I was gonna roust your ass out of the room to go get something to eat."

"Got a better idea. Fuck the class, let's go put a mild buzz on and then head out to the baseball diamonds. State high school tourney's goin' on, and I haven't been to a baseball game in, like, eons."

Marty laughed. "You? Mr. Responsible? Mr. By-The-Book? You want to skip class, smoke dope and kick back to watch a ball game? Jesus Scotty! That sounds like something I'd do, except I don't really like baseball all that much. It's friggin' boring."

"It's the national pastime, douche bag!" He ruffled Marty's hair. "C'mon, Marty, it's a beautiful day in May! You told me yourself this class isn't that important to what's on your horizon, and I'm done for the day. Let's be bad boys, chill out a bit, then head to watch the state's most talented athletes strut their stuff. That kid from Spooner, Page, is playing in the state tourney, the one who signed to play here next year...Greg or Gary or Jeff or whatever. Anyway, they have a game at three. Let's go see what the kid's got going. He's gonna be playing in cardinal and white next year!"

For the past few weeks, both guys had made as much time as they could to spend together. Part of it was to talk about the wedding and planning the right party. Part of it was bumping, grinding and sweating in one or the other's room, or in the basement of the dorm. Part of it was just kicking back and shooting the breeze. Marty was still going back to Rockford every weekend, and they were working hard to maximize the time they had together Monday through Friday. Each one was aware of the effort to find the time.

They bought a couple of Cokes to combat the cottonmouth that followed a couple of cocktails in the dorm and the joint they'd smoked before heading out to the field. They stripped off their shirts, rolled up the legs of their shorts to catch maximum rays, put on their coolest shades and kicked back to enjoy the seventy-two degree May weather. Scott had played in a state tournament game with his high school team two years earlier. As time allowed, he'd been following the high school standings throughout the spring season. He still had buddies playing on the home team, but they hadn't been strong enough to make it to high school's big dance this spring.

Marty motioned with his free hand. "That him? The all-star you talked about?"

Scott scanned the program and double-checked the uniform number. "Yeah. Third baseman. Batting over .360 for the season in his senior year after a blazing underclassman's career. Made `All State' in his sophomore and junior years, and Coach Bidwell scored big when the guy signed a letter of intent."

They kicked back and watched an eventless first inning two innings. Marty nudged Scott's ribs with his elbow and whined. "You gotta see why I find this kinda dull, Scotty. With all the action that goes on in baseball, it's like soccer in slow-fucking-motion." An older guy wearing the colors of his son's high school, with two younger sons in tow, looked over his shoulder and sneered at the language. Marty did the right thing and put his hand to his mouth. "Sorry, sir! I'll watch the language. Didn't mean to offend." There were a dozen smart-assed remarks jumping around in his skull, but he suppressed them all.

Between innings, Scott nudged him. "So, how's Ashley coming along with the wedding plans? I assume she's pretty much in charge. Craig and Brett have been working hard on the invitation list."

"And what the fuck...oops...sorry, sir." The dad looked over his shoulder and winked. "Anyway, just what have you been doing? You're the best man, darn it." He put the right emphasis on `darn.' The father gave him a thumbs up over his shoulder. "But, yeah, Ash' is pretty much in charge, with Jill running interference and helping her to make up our minds. She has a mother's gift of convincing the little one that every one of her ideas is really her daughter's. It's amazing, actually."

Scott smiled. "Well, to answer your question, I'm gonna rent the bus and send the invitations, and Craig and Brett are gonna follow up with phone calls. We're planning a road trip and a baseball game. Don't worry about it. It's in the bag. So, when do I need to get measured for a tux?"

Marty sipped his Coke and shook his head. "No tux. This is going to be small and somewhat casual. No tuxes, no church. Jill already had that once, and we want to do something a little different. We're going to do it in a park with a babbling brook behind us and a judge presiding. Just suits and dresses."

Scott chuckled. "You're going to have to learn how to tie a tie, you know."

Marty shook his head again. "Why do you think I picked you for my best man?" Scott just smiled and leaned back, locking his fingers behind his head. "Oh, and there's going to be a clown."

Scott glanced to his left. "What?"

Marty giggled. "Yup. At the reception. The ceremony is at one end of the park. The reception and dance will be at the other end under a big shelter. Ashley wanted a clown. There's only gonna be fifty or sixty people there, but a lot of them have little kids, and Ash' wanted to make sure that the boring grown ups didn't wreck their day."

Scott snorted. "A clown at Marty Anderson's wedding. How friggin' appropriate is that?"

There was a powerful crack of the bat. It was the fourth inning, and Spooner was down two to one. The Page kid had just made amazing contact. "Holy shit!" Scott uttered as the ball flew over the left-center fence. He looked down. "Sorry, sir, but that was warranted."

As Greg Page casually loped around second base, the older of the two blond boys, probably about ten years old looked up. "No shit!" the kid opined.

His dad playfully patted him on the side of the head. "Don't you dare say that in front of your mother."

"No shit," his little brother muttered under his breath. Marty heard it and rolled to his side laughing, then nudged the kid with his foot. The kid turned, and Marty just winked at him.

They relaxed in each other's company for several more minutes, in the warmth of a gorgeous spring afternoon's sunshine and each other's company. It dawned on each of them that there wasn't much of a difference in how it made them feel.

Suddenly Marty smacked his forehead. "Oh...gosh...I almost forgot!" He reached behind himself for his wallet. "I gotta give you this." He retrieved his wallet from the back pocket, with some effort, and retrieved a check. "My rent."

Scott waved it away. "Forget it! It's a done deal. You can use that on the honeymoon. Put it away."

Marty's foot nudged the dad. "Sorry, sir..." he looked at Scott, "...but fuck you!" Both young lads' hands shot to their lips. Marty continued, "You covered me when you'd probably already figured out I wasn't comin' back. I wasn't positive, but I did a shitty thing by signing that lease, and you still covered it. Mom and me settled with the...uhm..." he glanced at the family by his feet and considered his choice of words. "We settled with my old man and came out really good."

He leaned over to speak in a little more confidence. "Ya' see, she's entitled to half of his business. She said she was leaning toward selling her share to his biggest competitor. Either that, or he could settle with her for twenty percent more than the other dope had offered, and then he can keep full ownership. The desperate dummy gave it up, and they signed the papers last week. They set it up so that she's suddenly flush, and Jill and me have a down payment. We're goin' house shopping the next couple of weekends.

Scott gave him a gentle shove. "And I'm a sudden property owner in my own right, with a scholarship and a job. I don't need...I don't want your money, Marty. Really. Keep it!"

Marty grabbed Scott's arm. "Can't do it, professor. Give this to charity, if you want. Burn it, if you want. But, please, take it. I'll be heading out in a few weeks, and I don't want to leave owing anybody anything." They were both quiet for a minute, until Marty turned his head, looking solemn. "I didn't mean that, Scott. I know that I'll always owe you plenty."

Scott nudged his knee playfully. "Come on now; don't go getting all mushy on us. Too early for that. We got time."

There was another crack of the bat. Scott looked out in time to see the Page kid spring off the bag and he appeared to hang horizontal above the space between second and third. A rocket of a line shot smacked into the web of his glove, and he did a belly flop onto the dusty soil beneath him. The runner that had been on second was most of the way to third by the time Page hit Earth. He rolled over and tossed the ball up to the second baseman, catching the eager runner who'd had no reason to think to `tag up' on a shot like the one that'd just come off the bat. With that double play, Spooner won the game. Scott shook his head. "A-fucking-mazing. The guy who slaps the go ahead homer also manages the game-ending double play, and pulls it out of his ass."

Marty elbowed him, and looked down at the brothers. "You boys know that you can't talk like that until you're in college, right?"

Both boys giggled and nodded as the father grinned and wrapped an arm around each of them.

Marty giggled as they walked, side-by-side, up the front sidewalk. "He's gonna freaking shit his pants when he sees me here,, you know?" It was mid-evening on the last weekend before final exams, and neither guy was feeling any pain. The party was well under way, but the guys weren't going to have any catching up to do.

Scott hit him with an elbow. "You know? I don't think so."

They meandered through the crowd, finally finding their way to the keg on the back porch. Out of the corner of his eye, Scott caught a couple of Kip's brothers doing double takes, and one of them barely subdued a disdainful sneer. He helped himself to two beers and handed one of them to Marty.

Marty fought off a shiver, but not because it was cold out on the porch. "Kinda feels like we're invading enemy territory, doesn't it?"

Scott grinned. "A little." He flashed a smile over Marty's shoulder.

Before he could turn to see what amused Scott, a pair of hands came from behind and covered Marty's eyes.

Marty smiled, reached behind with both hands and laid them flat on the trim waist, pulling the torso close. "Kelly Abbott, you got thirty minutes to quit rubbing your boobs against my back, or just thirty seconds to start rubbing them in my face. Your call." She giggled and slapped his shoulder. He turned around and enveloped her in a massive hug, kissing her just in front of her ear. "How ya' been, sweetheart?" She planted a giggling kiss on his cheek.

"I heard the news!! I ran into Craig at the library this afternoon and he told me about the pending nuptials." She kissed his cheek again. "Oh, Marty! They're so lucky! I'm so happy for you and Jill and Ashley!! She's getting the best father anybody could dream of."

Marty looked down and blushed through a shy grin. "That's my hope, and my plan. And the new one on the way..."

She lightly slapped his chest. "You don't waste any time, you stud!"

He shrugged. "Well, it wasn't the plan, but what can I say? I'm amazingly fertile. But it's not a bad thing. You'll come down for the wedding in June, won't you? It's not gonna be a huge affair, but we both want you to be there."

"I'll crash it if I'm not invited." She turned and smiled. "Hi, Scott. How've you been?"

He gave her a calm smile and sighed. "I've been good, Kelly, really good. You're lookin' as good as ever."

She glanced meekly at the ground and said softly, "Thanks. You too." After a silent moment she picked up the conversation. "So, I heard you managed a little political magic this spring, huh? I wonder how many college freshmen can say they pulled off what you managed with the Regents, pissed off the governor and still landed a job at the Capitol?"

Scott chuckled. "You been talking to Maureen or to Kip?"

"Both, actually. She doesn't talk a lot about too much political stuff with me, especially now that I'm headed for my internship. But Kip...what's up with him? I think he's growing up a bit. Even you and him seem to have found a truce. I never thought, in my wildest dreams, that I'd run into you at one of these parties, but he was the one who told me you'd probably be here, and that he actually invited you. Jesus, Scott. I'd have thought this was one of the signs of the pending apocalypse."

Marty took Scott's empty beer glass. "Or that Hell had frozen over." He stepped over to the keg for a refill.

Scott shrugged. "Oh, well. We're all a work in progress. Maybe he's evolving."

When Marty stepped back, Kelly had waved another guy over. He wasn't much taller than she was, but was built like a brick shithouse. The navy polo he wore was pushed open at the collar by his broad chest and thick neck, and the biceps strained the short sleeves. His jeans were just as tight, boasting a nicely packaged package and thick, muscular thighs. He slid his left arm around her waist. "Guys, I want you to meet Jayson Burrington. We're going to be interning together this summer in Governor Hackett's office, and he's the pledge chair at the house across the street."

Scott smiled and thrust a hand forward. "Jayson. Scott Turner. Nice to meet you."

Jayson took his hand somewhat tentatively. "I know you, Scott. You're something of a celeb, you know. Nice to meet you too. And, uhm, way to go on that tuition thing." Scott nodded his thanks, but was struck by the difference between the guy's physical appearance and his nervous demeanor.

Marty stepped forward and handed Scott his beer. "Jayson! Martin Anderson the First," he instantly wished that Kip had been nearby, "but you can call me Marty, or man-of-my-dreams like Kelly does." He winked, and then leaned over and whispered. "A minute ago...you know, when she mentioned her wildest dreams? She was talking about me. She's probably told you that she has wildly erotic dreams about me, right?"

Jayson laughed nervously with wide eyes as he shook Marty's hand. "Uh, she hasn't gone there, uhm, not yet anyway."

Kelly tapped Jayson's chest with the back of her hand. "Keep an eye on this one, Jay. He just might try to kiss you before he says goodnight."

Marty giggled, and then wiggled his eyebrows. "C'mon, Kel. You know that Marty Anderson doesn't just try. He either does or he doesn't DO." He grinned back at Jayson. "Not to worry, bro'. Don't know you well enough yet. But, play your cards right..." He winked.

Jayson didn't know what to say. He just laughed nervously again and wiped his hand on his jeans.

Marty's face lit up as he looked beyond the couple. "Hey! Monmouth! Thanks for the beer!"

Kip's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Then he smiled. "Hey, Anderson. Thanks for getting the name right. Slumming with the frat crowd tonight, huh?"

Marty motioned toward Scott with just his head. "Scotty twisted my arm." He lifted his cup. "And if you guys are buying, I figured what the fuck?"

Kip stepped over to the small crowd and grinned. "How's it going, Kelly? Hey, Jay." He nodded at the couple, leaned his butt against the porch railing and looked at Scott. "I wasn't sure you'd show."

"C'mon, Kip! I told you I would. When did I not do what I said I'd do?"

Kip looked over the top rim of his glass as he took a hefty gulp of brew. He swallowed and smacked his lips. "Never. It's one of the things that always pissed me off about you."

"More than me?" Marty nudged Kip's forearm with his elbow.

Kip laughed. "Anderson, nobody has pissed me off more than you have. You, sir, have a gift."

Marty giggled and winked. "Ain't it the truth? But hey, you gave me a hobby for about the past year or so."

Kip chuckled and shook his head.

Marty grabbed Kelly's arm and nodded toward the door. "Come on, sweetheart, Marty's got his dancin' shoes on." She looked back at Jayson.

He smiled and motioned toward the door. "You go ahead. I'm going to find something to eat. Didn't have any dinner." He looked at Kip. "Where's the chow, Kip?" Kip motioned into the house. "Pizza and subs on the counter off to the right in there." Marty and Kelly disappeared through the doorway and Jay followed.

Scott leaned against the railing next to Kip. "So," he asked, "what's up for the summer and the near term, Kip?"

He turned around and looked out across the yard, above the tree line and at the darkening sky. "Not sure yet. Prob'ly go to work for the old man in a few months. But, once we finish finals and do the cap an' gown thing, I'm gonna travel a bit."

"Really?"

"Well, when my older brother finished his undergrad, Mom and Dad sent him to London and Ireland for a month. Then, when he got his J.D., he was off to Italy for six weeks. I appealed to Mom, and she went to work on the father unit. I'm takin' June and July off to hit the road."

"So, where are you off to?" Scott asked.

Kip grinned, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "Always wanted to see Australia, but I'll probably spend most of the time in Melbourne. Who knows? Maybe I'll find a good graduate program down under." He looked at Scott and winked.

Scott wiggled his eyebrows. "Say hi to Glenn for me."

Kip pointed at Scott with his cup. "Looks like Hackett got on board with the tuition and budget thing, huh? The paper this morning covered his budget message to the legislature, and he's touting the fact that the students are going to see the same cost of living increase as the average cheesehead, just as it should be. It's like it was his idea."

Scott sniffed and shrugged a bit. "Ah, well...he's trying to get in front of a parade that was already in progress, but that's his due. He's the gov' after all. Pennington did a good job working `The State Journal.' The other Regents, especially in Milwaukee, Green Bay and LaCrosse, worked their own local media, and there wasn't a lot he could do. I got a letter from him letting me know that he was not accepting my resignation, and pointing to the resolution that you guys engineered in support of my remaining on the Board." Kip barely stifled a satisfied smile. "Thanks again, by the way." Kip just nodded. Scott chuckled. "Wonder what Pennington's reaction to the reversal of my resignation is gonna be." He looked at Kip and smirked. "Heard from Ol' Andy lately?"

Kip covered his mouth to avoid spitting out his beer because of the laugh. He swallowed. "Well, it's probably safe to say that he's not going to be e-mailing me any more. But I did get one screaming voicemail a couple nights after the last WSA meeting. I think the guy was drunk. Let's just say he was, aaaahhhh...non-plussed with Kip. Don't think he's gonna be calling me anytime soon."

Marty bound through the doorway back out onto the porch. His face shone with a light perspiration he'd worked up on the dance floor. "Whoa! Marty's burning up the floor tonight, boys." He turned and wiggled his ass against Kip's thigh. "Shoulda' seen me shakin' it out there, Kip! Everybody in the room wanted some of this!"

Kip snorted and gently pushed him away, but he felt his boxers rub against the head of his cock as it chubbed.

Scott suddenly winced, shoulders hunched, and his eyelids instinctively shut tight. Something wet and cold had hit him just below the temple. His eyes closed, he could hear Marty and Kip's laughter. His fingertips scraped the remnants of a water soaked napkin off the side of his face. He heard another familiar voice. "Hey! `Sup, Mr. President?"

He wiped the sloppy glob off the side of his face and laughed before looking to his left. "You dick head! Radar! You're fucking wasted."

Walter lifted a glass over the shoulder of one of the hot young girls he had in his grips and giggled. "Fucking right, Scotty!" He giggled and rolled off one long, rambling, slurring uninterrupted sentence. "Hey this is Tina and this is Aubrey and thanks for inviting me Kip we're having a great time and..." he stopped abruptly and eyed Marty. "...uhm, who's this guy?"

Scott slapped his thigh and guffawed. "This is my bud, Marty." His eyes widened. "Looks like you got your hands full tonight, Radar." He jousted Marty with his thumb. "Marty, this is Walter Jamieson, aka `Radar' at the WSA. My right hand in all things important, and sometimes unimportant."

Marty and Walter exchanged nods. "I'd shake your hand, man, but I'd wouldn't ask you to move either one of yours under the circumstances." Tina and Aubrey just giggled. "Glad to meet you. Scott's always spoken very highly of you."

Walter looked at Scott and chuckled. "Well, he should, Goddammit! He's talked about you, too. Aren't you the stadium streaker? Fucking-A! Sounds like you got `im where he is, and I took over from there to make him look good." He put on an overly-dramatic serious face. "But I could tell you stories of nobility and grace under pressure that would give you goose bumps."

Marty nodded. "I think I know `em already Radar. Besides, this is a party. No time for serious talk tonight, huh? It'd jut give him a big...or make that bigger...head." He jabbed a blushing Scott with an elbow. "Maybe another time." Aubrey rubbed Walter's chest. "And it looks like you're pretty busy."

Radar glanced to his left, then his right with a leer. "Well, not yet, but I'm working on getting there. We're gonna go dance. See you guys around." He ushered his adoring friends back into the house and disappeared into the crowd. All three of the other guys just grinned and shook their heads.

Marty stepped toward the keg to get a fresh beer. "Hey!" he shouted and looked over his shoulder. He tapped the tall blond on the back, and looked over his shoulder. "Scott! Look who's here!" The new guest stepped back and gave a puzzled look. The short, wiry guy with the silly grin looked vaguely familiar.

Kip glanced toward the keg and his face went stone-cold sober. His jaw fell open and his eyes widened. "Oh my god!"

Scott looked at the object of his attention and smiled. "Hey, Peter! It's Peter, isn't it? The med student?"

Peter Andreassen finished filling his cup and turned. He walked over and nodded with a broad smile. "Scott, right? Didn't we meet at...uhm..."

"Brandon's place! Back in March, just before spring break."

The med student extended a hand. "That's right. I remember now." He chuckled under his breath. "That turned out to be quite a night. You should have hung around." He winked.

Scott smiled back recalling him and Marty in Randy's bedroom after they'd left Brandon's party. `Quite a night, indeed,' he thought to himself.

Peter looked back at Kip. "And how are you doing these days, Kip? Feeling better I hope?"

Kip stammered. "Uh...better...uhm...yeah! Feeling much better...thanks." He looked at Scott nervously. "Peter's taken care of me at the Health Center. Minor procedure a few weeks back. Man! Surprised to see you here!" He smiled, nervously.

Peter sipped his beer. "Well, even us slave-driven med students do get let out now and then." He playfully tapped Kip's shoulder. "My little brother is graduating with you guys, and is a member of a house just up the street. I have a couple of precious days off from my current rotation in gerontology, with the old folks ya' know, and he dragged me out to this bash. Thought I should spend some time with people closer to my own age. He's in there getting cozy with some young babe, and I thought I'd come out here for a drink and some fresh air. It's pretty dark in there and the view out here is much nicer." He took a moment to eye both guys as he took another drink. "Glad to see you're doing okay."

There was another moment of awkward silence as the med student and the party's host eyed one another. Finally, Peter broke the silence. "Well, I'm going back in to see what's shakin'." He raised his glass. "Thanks again, Kip, and I'm glad you're healthy and getting around okay." He nodded again at Kip, and then to Scott and Marty. "Good seeing you guys again. Maybe see you `round." He turned and sauntered back into the house, dodging the partygoers who were coming out through the door and heading for the back lawn.

Kip had finally relaxed, but his smile not yet evaporated. "Well, guys, I gotta go work the crowd a bit. Stick around as long as you want." He raised his glass in a subtle salute to both men. "Hang in there." He looked out at a tree in the back yard and pointed, and then shot a glance back at Marty. "Actually, you can hang from about the third branch up, but I doubt that's gonna happen, ever." He winked, and all three shared a hearty laugh.

He turned, and both Scott and Marty admired the taut muscles of his broad shoulders and v-shaped torso beneath the tight fitting tee shirt. As he stepped back into the house, both sets of eyes wandered down to the firm globes of the shapely ass that was packed into his designer jeans. They looked at each other. After a pause, they said in unison, "Nnaaaaaaah."

Marty turned and leaned against the porch rail and surveyed the crowd. Scott joined him, hunching over and leaning his forearms on the railing. Scott didn't turn his head, but his eyes went sharp left. "So, Brett's gone tonight?"

The corners of Marty's mouth turned up a little. "Yup."

"And you mentioned my big head a little while ago."

"Didn't say which head I was talking about."

Scott sipped his beer one more time. "So which one was it?"

"I don't mind making either one of them a little bit bigger."

"So, are we gonna go back to your room, or am I going to drag you out into this back yard, strip you naked right here and now and give you some serious lovin' in front of everybody on the lawn?"

Marty threw his head back and laughed. He slapped Scott's bicep with the back of his hand. "A big part of me would love the second option, but I'll settle for the first." He looked right into Scott's eyes. "I'm as ready to get the hell out of you as you are, judging by the mound under your zipper."

They walked through the crowd. Kelly and Jayson were nowhere to be seen. As they neared the front door to the house, Scott caught Kip's eye. He was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Peter's hand was planted flat against the wall just above his head and he was leaning in, paying great attention to his former patient. As their eyes engaged, Scott's expression and the index finger that waved at the two men asked the obvious question. Kip just shrugged and grinned. Scott nodded good night,' and he instantly realized that he might be nodding goodbye.' Kip tossed him a casual salute and the peace sign. As Scott pulled the door closed he saw both pairs of muscular legs climbing the stairs together.

An hour later, Marty's toes curled so far and so hard that, once the ecstasy of his orgasm washed away, he whined about the cramp in the arch of his left foot. Scott reached up and gripped the foot. Using both thumbs he quickly applied a vigorous massage on the soft tissue. He could feel the tensed muscle, and wrestled it back to relaxation. Marty sighed, coughed and then sighed again. "Thanks, professor."

Scott released the foot just as Marty's other calf slid down off of his shoulder and both feet hit the floor. Scott collapsed on top of his friend, pressing their sweaty, cum-coated chests and stomachs together. Both mens' mouths were parched, and each searched for added moisture between the lips of the other. Scott broke the kiss and raised his head a few inches. "No. Thank you."

Author's Note: Thanks again, Kory. You're an all star!! You too, Peter. Hope you don't mind being brought back into the fray. We're almost there, gang. Twenty-seven will be posted shortly. Questions, comments, complaints and concerns are happily received at scotty.13411@hotmail.com. Be Well.