THE ASSOCIATION
CHAPTER 29
COMPLETION
Disclaimer: This is a work of gay fiction. It will contain scenes describing sex between adult males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if it is illegal to possess such material where you are, then stop now!
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This is the final chapter of this saga. Thanks to all who have stuck with us!
My plan for Nicholas when he arrived for his first weekend visit was desperately passionate and potentially criminal. I was going to rip off his clothes and rape him on the spot. As soon as the doorbell chimed, I leaped to respond. There stood Nicholas in the corridor, leaning gracefully on the doorjamb, wearing a big kiss-me grin-and absolutely nothing else.
I, of course, was naked also, but then I was decently enclosed within my own flat. As far as I was concerned, only the clothes-ripping part of my plan had been altered by circumstances. I grabbed my exhibitionist lover and dragged him inside, flinging the door shut as I enveloped his firm musculature in my own strong embrace for a long-denied, sex-starved kiss.
The man was unusually compliant for a rape victim, leading me to persist in the hope that no charges would be filed. In fact, I believe it was he who led the way toward the bedroom, my lips attached to his and his hand gripping my erect phallus. He fell back onto the bed, and I immediately impaled him, raw and dry, for our first of many acts of coitus during his brief visit.
After I had satisfied my lust, twice, I raised up onto my elbow and asked, "So, where are your clothes, Ace?"
"Home," he answered mischievously.
I played along. "You mean in the car."
"Nope. Home."
The simpleton had left his condo stark naked, and had driven three hours on the freeway in a low-slung sports car in the all-together, with no back-up cover of any kind. It made me hard again to think of it.
"Well, it was dark most of the way," he defended lamely. "By the way, who is the gray-haired woman who lives on the third floor? As I was coming up from the garage on the elevator, the doors suddenly opened on the first floor, and she got on to ride with me. Pretty gutsy of her, I thought."
I guffawed. "Don't ride the elevator naked, fool! Patrick and I streak back and forth from each other's places, but mostly at late hours, and we use the stairs. But luckily for you, that was just Dr. Van Horn. Art prof. She's caught me before, too, outside Patrick's door one night. Next day, she came by to ask if I would be willing to pose for her figure drawing class. Which I declined, of course, because of the movie career," I added in response to his raised eyebrows. "But Patrick is doing it instead. He couldn't care less who sees him naked. After all, he's going to do Adam's porno films.
"But back to you-- what are you going to do for going out? Stroll the streets naked?" The thought was attractive to me.
"Why would we go out? What I came for is right here!"
I didn't press the point. Actually, we would need to go out at least to do our run, if not for any other purpose. But Nicholas could wear anything of mine, down to the runners, and the thought of staying the whole weekend naked in bed with him had a definite appeal, even after having cum twice in his ass during the past half-hour. I didn't have time to think about it, anyway, because his mouth was pressed on mine again, and the weight of his smooth, muscular body was pushing me onto my back. I spread my thighs and slid my feet forward instinctively as his firm dick prodded insistently below my ball-sack. It quickly found its target and pushed roughly into my bowel.
I regularly get fucked by a lot of guys, but no one's cock fits me quite so nicely as my man's. My gut was soon slippery with his first cum while he worked on spewing a second, and our weekend cum score was shortly tied, two to two.
During one of our rest breaks, he brought up the subject of Stephanie. I had told him about the break-up scene immediately, of course, by phone, but he was still having some anxiety about being a home-wrecker, a role he hated. "So how do you feel now?" he wanted to know.
"What are you, my therapist?"
"You tell me."
"OK," I answered steadily. "Here's what you are to me. You are the love of my life, the best friend I ever had, my soul mate, the light of my existence, my purpose for living, my partner, my mate, my lover, my life companion...hold on, I'm thinking...am I leaving anything out?"
"Don't lay all that crap on me," he said gently.
I sighed. "It's taken me long enough to say any of that, don't you think? But you're right, of course, you're always right. By the way, could you say something wrong or stupid or out of line just once, to make me feel better?"
"No."
"Well, here it is, Nicholas. Straight talk, no crap. I feel relief at having it over with Stephanie, especially so easily. I love you. It feels like the real thing to me, like it's forever. I want it to be that way. But I don't know what the future will bring. I'm not hanging all responsibility for my well-being around your neck, I'm taking responsibility for that myself. I just want you in my life, Nicholas, as long as you can stand to be near me. And I want to be in yours, as long as you'll have me. I want your OK for me to think about you just about all day every day, because I'm going to do that, anyway. I want us to be together as much as we possibly can, starting with this weekend...."
He silenced me by clamping his mouth onto mine again. I felt the firm, spongy head of his cock slipping under my scrotum again. This time, it slid smoothly into my anus, lubricated by his own abundant sperm. Fuck number three lasted almost an hour, and involved thrusting in every posture and position we knew that allowed for anal penetration. Both of us were bathed in sweat and panting when he finally released his remaining seed into my gut. We could have used a shower, but we were too wrung out. Even before his dick had softened enough to slip out of my ass, Nicholas was sound asleep atop my body. I smiled. This was how we began, in those first few nights sharing the "dog bed" back in training camp at The Farm.
Who needs more space than this? I wondered contentedly, as Nicholas' warm, soft breath caressed my cheek.
That weekend, our relationship became anchored in permanency. We were no longer a possible summer fling. Nicholas was finally convinced that his mouth and ass were not substitutes for pussy, Stephanie's or otherwise. They WERE pussy, to me. We resumed the natural, easy sex we had enjoyed at The Farm, but it was different now, more relaxed, more confident, more affectionate.
I had provisions enough to last the weekend, and we never did leave the building, even to run. I fucked Nicholas on the kitchen island, sucked him off on the dining table, and slipped him the sausage on just about every piece of furniture in the condo, including the coffee table. We made ourselves a hazard to aerialists, especially the news traffic helicopter, on my rooftop patio in the mild afternoons.
Patrick had been under strict orders to stay the hell away until Sunday afternoon, so that Nicholas and I could have some romance. But he countered by inviting us to his place for dinner and a movie Sunday evening, giving Nicholas the opportunity to see his new crib, and giving all of us some time for a sperm-drenched three-way for dessert. We arrived at Patrick's in the buff, avoiding any chance encounters with Dr. van Horn or other non-Association residents, and got the surprise treat of finding all the local Members gathered for cocktails and introductions. There was no time for sex just then, but their hard-ons told me that Nicholas was a hit with my new friends, and his seemed to indicate that he liked them, too. He was more relaxed and vivacious than I'd ever seen him. Having the specter of Stephanie safely diverted to the clutches of her "frog" lover had done wonders for my man's self-esteem. We were not down on all things French, however; we, and most of the other guys as well, continued to communicate easily in that language just to keep in practice. That, and it's so damn sexy.
It was my turn to visit Nicholas two weekends later, and I tried his technique for traveling light by setting out completely nude, without so much as a toothbrush and comb. Even with the roof on, it was a bit dodgy at first, driving through urban streets before sunset. I had to be very attentive to the lane I was in to avoid direct views into my Benz from the wrong vehicles. Once on the turnpike, though, it was smooth, mostly discrete sailing. I discovered that maybe one trucker in ten lights his cab to maximize visibility for peeping into passing four-wheelers. Most either failed to look or chose to ignore me. But I carried on a twenty-minute flirtation with one handsome, dark-bearded fellow who raised his hips to show me a nice, thick, bulb-headed dick lit by the amber lights of a highway interchange. He hovered beside me to watch me stroke my rod, his mouth fairly drooling at the show, until I shot a load the splashed onto the dash and dripped from the steering wheel. His gestures indicated that he was ready for a rest-break and rendezvous, but of course, that was forbidden by my commitment to The Association. I smiled and shrugged up at him, hoping to turn the dude down gently. In the end, he gave his horn a couple of short, deep toots of farewell, and coasted into a rest area on his own. If there was a lot lizard on hand there, I'd wager he was all set to jump their bones, male or female.
Nicholas' condo was beautiful, but we soon decided together that he would be leaving it, and his university, at semester's end. (The Association would purchase it at appraised value, hand it off to another member, and he'd be free to invest in another property as he saw fit.) After all, we'd both be taking Spring Term off to film for Franco. At that point, we'd have to figure out how to balance acting career and education. I knew I'd be changing my major, away from medicine, but I wasn't ready to decide yet whether to shift to acting or some other aspect of the film business. I might be abandoning my own new digs soon, too, and together we could be heading west. Whatever, it would be together.
The semester rushed along, and before we knew it, we were having Christmas with the 'rents, separately, and basking in the glow of our Dean's List academic performance and our impending movie stardom. Then we were back at my condo celebrating a naked New Year's Eve with a dozen or so Association friends, including not only Patrick, but also William, Jason, and Lawrence. It was great to see the summer guys, who were looking hotter than ever. We had all been keeping in touch via messaging and email, but you can't stick your dick into an Instant Message, and I enjoyed sticking my dick into all of those present at the party that night. They enjoyed it, too.
William was doing sensationally. He had transferred to study finance, and he was poised to burn Wall Street up. Next to Nicholas, he was my favorite fuck, especially as a top-man. He really knew how to plumb my depths. He never bottomed for anybody but Patrick (occasionally), Nicholas, and me.
After the others returned to classes, Nicholas and I had six fabulous weeks together, with nothing particular to do except enjoy one another, before filming began. We took one week to go down to The Farm. It was snowing gently as we landed in the small Association jet, which carried about a dozen other passengers, including several wives and a couple of children. What a change! "Our room" happened to be available, and it felt just like home to us. We could run around naked on that floor only, but other than that, with co-ed use in effect, we actually had to dress to enjoy the facilities.
What facilities? We hardly got out of bed except to exercise and eat. But the exercise was great! Daytime temps rose into the high 30's or low 40's every day, and there was little wind. We set out daily on our old familiar jogging route, but on cross-country skis. Within half a mile, we took a turn onto federal National Forest land, stripped off our clothing, and skied for miles very comfortably on the old logging trails in the buff. Hunting Season was over, and we never encountered a soul. The fun of applying lotion to each other's bodies before and after was an added dividend. We returned home tanned as if we'd been to the beach.
There was The Crypt, of course, secretly open to Members only. We spent a couple of evenings down there enjoying the fleshly delights of close contact with our fellow Members present-while their wives played bridge, enjoyed cocktails, or watched first-run chick-flicks, upstairs. We were the youngest ones, and the only ones from our class, in attendance, but what the hell, all the men were in top condition and hot as could be. They all seemed quite willing to turn ass-up for cocks like ours!
The movie shooting schedule called for me to spend two weeks on location in Romania, then take two weeks off, with Nicholas on the set one of those weeks, then both of us on location for a week. One hotel suite was to accommodate the two of us-with regular visits back and forth from Jack and Joe. We contacted Adam in Prague and set up visits with him during our off weeks at his home/studio compound. We could enjoy watching the filming of his porno movies featuring several of our friends along with other Association members, and off-set, we could fuck around with any and all of them to our hearts' content. The guys in school came in for long weekends and holidays to film their scenes, which were mostly one-on-one until the final orgy scene, which would be filmed during Spring Break.
The following month, Nicolas and I would be filming on location in Morocco on and off, and then there was a month in London doing studio work. We'd have a hotel suite in Morocco and a flat in London during those periods.
The "final" movie script had arrived a month before filming, and we got a scary surprise. Not only were our parts both bigger than expected (unless they hit the cutting room floor, that is), but the range of emotion called for was greater, too. Some of it was pretty intense stuff. Nicholas' character had to snap near the end and have a dramatic melt-down as he and his lover neared their tragic demise. Mine went into battle knowing he was going to die, with stoic, yet tragic resolve. So we were not just to be a pair of pretty faces in this thing, we were actually expected to work rather hard.
And it was work, but fun work, as it turned out. We wore sexy "Hollywood" ancient soldier costumes, or parts thereof, or we were naked, in all of our scenes. Either there was skin showing, or flowing, figure-clinging fabric, all the time. Mostly, skin showing, and no figure doubles, either.
It was the same for my opposite, the devastatingly beautiful Greek actress Marina Marcarios. She is a couple of years older than I am, and she has two previous films to her credit. On the set, she is very professional. Off screen and in person, she is remarkably down-to-earth, fun-loving, and even earthy, as I discovered when she spat plum-pits at me in the market, when we were out prowling around a bit together before filming began. I spat right back at her, and our relationship was off to a happy start.
Nicholas, poor thing, was saddled with the high-spirited Italian beauty Adriana da Silva. Ninety-eight percent of males on the planet, gay and straight, would envy him wallowing in the sack with that hot and busty temptress. The girls were good friends, since working together on their first picture a couple of years earlier. Neither had a modest bone, which was a good thing, since regular displays of their tits and asses were apparently indispensible to the unfolding of the plot of this film.
Marina and I spent about two weeks rolling around naked together, all told. Some of our simulated sex was real enough that I might just as well have gone ahead and stuck it in, and no one but us would have noticed. I don't think actors are supposed to get hard when they do these scenes, it's just not professional. But I showed her the full length, breadth, and rigidity of my Tower of Power.
After the steamiest, Melina batted her eyes at me and said, "Cigarette?"
I sighed. "Any twenty-year old male who could do that with you and NOT get an erection would have to have a serious circulation problem," I rationalized.
She giggled, and said, "Just lie on your stomach for a couple of minutes, and we'll talk shop while it goes down."
"You're assuming it WILL go down while I lie here next to you. But-ouch, that hurts-well, pain should do it." My swollen member was pressing into the hard, set mattress, which was not designed for our comfort.
One day, in the third week of filming, Franco called me into his office at the end of the day. After a bit of chit-chat about how the work was going (he was generally well pleased), he got down to business.
"I hear you're having dinner with your co-star tonight," he began. Nicholas was in Prague, and after all, I did enjoy Marina's company. Adriana was at her flat in Rome.
"I have a little proposition for you," Franco continued.
It was a shocking one. Here's the gist of it: Marina and Adriana are Lesbian lovers. They met on the set of his film two years earlier. He got wind of it right away, and called them in for a fatherly chat, suggesting that, for their careers, they had best keep it discrete, but promising to help however he could. He had been thinking ever since of providing the girls, whom he really did think of almost as daughters (not to mention popular bombshell actresses off of whom he could make a load of money), with protective cover, and he had decided as soon as he met me and Nicholas that we might be it.
He wanted us to pair up in "relationships." He'd already hinted as much to Marina, and she was interested. Tonight, he suggested, would be a good time for us to talk things over openly, perhaps after dinner in one of our suites. Then, if we came to an understanding, the two of us could work on Nicholas and Adriana when they arrived on location in a few days.
Negotiations went swimmingly, and that's how Marina and I became regulars on tabloid covers around the world, and Nicholas and Adriana the same-sometimes the four of us on one cover. We decided that we would not marry, since actors no longer need to, for social or box-office reasons, but we would be a permanent couple, and we would live together when our schedules allowed it. We would be seen together regularly in public, and photographed. But we would also be completely free to live our private relationships with our chosen same-sex partners, with whom we would publicly be known as "best friends."
Marina has a house in Athens and a summer cottage on Naxos. Adriana has her luxurious flat in Rome and a chalet in Switzerland. Together, the four of us recently bought a George IV-period manor in Sussex, not enormous, but posh enough, with grounds, stab les, and a staff. That last worried me a bit, but the last tenant, apparently, had a penchant for village youth, and the staff is discrete and downright blasé about who they find in bed with whom. Nicholas and I provide the house near Hollywood for the four of us. Plus, I have a small one in Palm Springs, and he has one in Key West. All those places are unusually naked-friendly for the U. S. Between films, we have plenty of choices as to where to be together, and whom to entertain. So many friends have open invitations to visit our U. S. homes that, whenever Nicholas and I go to any of them, there are usually two or more buddies in residence there already when we arrive.
And so to summarize (most of this is well-known): obviously, that first film went exceedingly well, bringing in a huge box office and putting the four of us on the road to major film stardom rivaling Joe and Jack themselves, who couldn't be happier for us. To everyone's surprise, it even picked up five Oscar nominations: for costumes, make-up, cinematography, score, and-Nicholas for supporting actor, due to his smashing performance in the melt-down scene. I asked him how in hell he did it, and he answered that he simply imagined that I had just told him I was leaving him, and then behaved as he thought he would in that situation. Franco was scorned as producer and the film as best picture, but that was just Hollywood prejudice against the genre and against films that make mega-bucks. We took no actual gold statues home, but we had a fine time at the awards show, where the girls were sensational in their multi-thousand-dollar gowns, and one television wit commented that he had trouble recognizing me with clothes on. I had to laugh, thinking that I knew a lot of guys that would have that same problem with me. Nicholas and I, I have to admit, looked mighty fine in our formal finery, too.
Critics were amazingly kind to us. One said I was "like Ben Afleck on steroids," and that Nicholas was like, "well, another Ben Afleck on steroids." No word yet on how Ben felt about that. But we had a stack of film offers on our agents' desks before the first film even opened. In three years, I've made nine films, Nicholas eleven, and none of them dogs. We've worked for Franco two more times, and appeared together in two films. I've worked with Marina in three (the public eats it up.)
For the past two summers, we've volunteered at The Farm on training staff, the first time, with Adam as staff leader, the second time, with me in that role. Of course, the first summer, our film was in the can but not yet released and no one knew who we were. Two or three recognized Adam and Brendan, who was on the team as well, because their DVD had recently been released. But the second summer, I kept my face straight, but it cracked me up, to see the jaws drop on those young trainees when they saw me and Nicholas come out on the porch and be introduced to them as their trainers on the first day! Though we had made a couple more films by then, our first film was actually still showing in theaters, and there we were, on the night of the sex demonstration, performing as the doggie-style models. I thought some of the guys were going to sprain their necks straining to see every thrust of my hips as I rammed my cock into Nicholas' ass. We made it a point to make ourselves available in the crypt when the guys went for their first visits, giving another sex demo show, and taking on as many of the young men as we could handle in the labyrinth. Luckily, Joe and Jack joined us for the alumni night, and helped us make sure every trainee present got fucked by at least one of their film idols. It wouldn't do to leave anyone out! I shot so much sperm, I almost got dehydrated.
Adam's full DVD series was the best-selling one he's made yet, and the guys who appeared in it get recognized often on the street, too. We maintain close contact with all of them, often meeting at The Farm, sometimes with our wives or partners, and entertaining them regularly at one of our homes, as well. Marina and Adriana love The Farm-no paparazzi, great service and surroundings, and no autograph seekers. They take their tops off on the pool deck, and the young staffers fight with one another for the right to take them drinks.
In the end, The Association has made good on its promises to me and Nicholas, and we are doing our best to make its advantages available to other promising young men after us. It is my hope that this testimony will help that to happen.
NOTE: Here it is, Alexander, as you requested, the full account of my induction into The Association, and the astonishing effect it has had on my life. I thank you for the opportunity to record it. Once you have confirmed that it meets your expectations and is filed with the Archives, I'll delete it from my computer and give the machine a security wash, in accordance with regulations. The story remains, as it must be, for Members only.
Douglas