The Beer Store

-- PROLOGUE --

Awakened by a hand massaging his balls, Josh yawned, glanced at the clock, and rolled over. He said, "Sorry baby, but I was up until two and I'm due at Joe's at nine-thirty. Tonight after the meeting, I promise."

Josh's roommate slid from her side of the bed; she went into the living room, giving Josh another hour to sleep before he shaved, showered, put on clean sweats, and jogged the five blocks to Joe's restaurant, arriving just as one of his partners rode up.

After locking his bike, the partner, Brad Darland, joined Josh on the sidewalk. "Sean must already be here. That's his mom's car parked up top."

"Tim's here too then -- Sean stayed at his place."

After the men's weekly breakfast, Joe suggested the partners expand their business. Sipping black coffee, he said he'd heard rumors that the owners of Alcindoro's Market wanted to sell. "And Doctor Mueller's willing to buy, provided you four are willing to run the operation." Located five minutes from where everybody lived except Tim, Alcindoro's stocked a limited line of staples but a wide range of beers, explaining Joe's interest. He continued, "As you probably know, there's a couple thousand empty square feet on the east end -- you could do your brewing in there."

Tim asked, "Would Doctor Mueller have to buy all that shit on their shelves?"

"We haven't discussed details," Joe answered. "Anyway, think it over -- we'll discuss it this weekend."

"We'd need a new name," Sean said softly. "We could call it The Beer Store."

As chair of the Gay-Straight Alliance's entertainment committee, Brad had arranged for the Valentine's Day decorations. Thanks to his sister, Gilda, who managed Corvallis Bouquets, attendees had gawked when they'd seen the massive red-and-white sprays adorning the dais. Leaving the meeting, his old friend Courtney Wade said, "That was the biggest crowd we've had since the Christmas party." She asked Josh, "What happened to Amber?"

"Her mother stopped by on her way home from Salem," Josh answered.

Outside Milam Hall Courtney joined two sorority sisters; Brad and Josh headed north, walking together until Brad entered the Bijou, Oregon State's only residence facility that allowed mixed-gender couples. A block further on, Brad turned right. Halfway down the block he turned right again, climbed the three steps to his porch, and collected his mail, all of it trash. Inside his apartment, he'd dropped the ads in the wastebasket; he was on his way to the kitchen when somebody knocked.

Uncertain whether he'd turned the latch coming in, Brad returned to the door. He opened it to see his neighbor Cam Phillips, who said, "I looked for you after the meeting but I guess you'd already left. I bought you a present -- can I go get it?" He returned moments later with a small gift-wrapped box.

Unwrapping the package, Brad realized that he hadn't received a Valentine's Day gift since he'd been in high school. He set the paper on his desk and opened the box; inside, he found a pair of white boxer shorts covered with red arrows and hearts. "Thank you," he said. "Do you want a beer?"

"Uh huh," Cam replied.

Brad's refrigerator held a collection of his partners' most recent experiments. Opening one of Sean's ales and one of Tim's lagers, Brad wondered how his incredibly shy neighbor had worked up the courage to buy such underwear. In the living room, as he gave Cam the lager, he said, "Thanks again for the shorts."

After sipping, Cam set the bottle next to the wrapping paper, asking, "Can I see how you look in them?"

"As soon as it warms up a little." Waiting for the heater to take off the chill before he took off any clothes, Brad sat on his sofa. "Finish the story you were telling me yesterday about the time you shot in your pants."

Cam shrugged, "I was sitting in class and got this really weird feeling. I couldn't believe I actually orgasmed without touching myself."

"It must have been like a wet dream," Brad replied. "I had wet dreams for a year before I started flogging my dog."

"I was twelve when I had my first one," Cam said.

Discussing their histories, Brad wondered why Cam turned him on. Ordinarily his interest focused on men with good builds, Josh especially, or tall, lanky ones like Tim, or ones with Sean's boyish good looks, but Cam fit none of those patterns. Average height and lean enough to merit the description of skinny, Cam typified OSU's freshmen.

Cam asked, "Is it warm enough yet?"

Brad stood and slid off his levis. As he stepped out of his old shorts, he saw Cam's eyes glued to his groin. When he'd put on his new shorts, he asked, "How do you like them?"

Cam nodded, "They make you look really studly." Patently hopeful, he asked, "Can I stay awhile more?"

"Take off your blue jeans," Brad answered. When both men wore only their boxers and sweat shirts, he said, "Sit down beside me."

In the five weeks the men had lived next door to each other they'd connected two different times. One night Cam had locked himself out of his apartment and had slept on Brad's couch. Hearing Cam jacking, Brad had finished him off. The other incident had happened the previous Wednesday. Tonight, Cam sitting next to him, Brad laid his arm across the teenager's shoulder. "When we watched that movie last week, which scene got you the hottest?"

"The one with the sailors. That's why I hardly needed you to masturbate me at all and I spooged." His gaze shifted from Brad's face to the bulge in his shorts. "Could I touch your erection?"

"Take off your shorts and I'll show you another way I like to JO with my buddies," Brad answered.

Caught dick in hand, Tim suggested as he switched off the video, "Next time you might knock."

Mike stood in the doorway, "I wanted some help with my project, but I can come back if you're busy."

Ignoring Mike's offer, Tim pulled up his pants. "Is this for statistics?"

"Accounting," Mike answered. "What kind of an amortization schedule is Josh using?"

"The only thing we amortize is the van," Tim said. "Nothing else is worth more than five-hundred dollars."

After covering several issues pertaining to the beer- manufacturing business, Mike asked one final question, "Does it embarrass you when I catch you doing that?"

"No," Tim replied. "You've caught me before and no doubt you'll catch me again. If Cindy'd been here, I'd have locked my door."

While the men had been talking, Tim had recalled that when he'd been living with Brad, their sex had been awesome, often exhausting both men. In hopes of similar action, he called a sophomore he'd spent the night with after the alliance's mixer last week, telling the female who answered the phone, "Hi, this is Tim Benson. Is Dylan around?"

Waiting, Tim recalled that his quarry had shown an interest in trying something new their next time. When Dylan came on the line, Tim asked, "Are you up for a walk on the wild side?"

"You bet, but I've never been to your house -- you'll need to give me directions."

Dylan arrived about ten dressed as he'd been dressed at the meeting; he wore a black OSU hoodie, khaki cargo pants, and a baseball cap. Setting the cap on the dresser, he said, "That girl you were with's truly hot. Are you into them too?"

Tim confirmed that he was.

Removing his sweat shirt, Dylan exposed the bare skin beneath. Watching Tim check him out, he asked, "Do I still look like a swimmer?"

"I'll need to see the rest of you to be sure," Tim answered. He undressed along with Dylan, matching the younger man shoes for shoes, pants for pants, briefs for briefs. Naked, he said, "Yeah, you still look like a swimmer."

Dylan frowned, "Is that dried nut on your dick?"

"Pre-cum," Tim answered. "My brother caught me tugging my sperm-worm."

Whereas straight Josh, gay Brad, and bi Tim knew what they wanted, Sean had never been sure. Saturday night in his garage he told Joe, "I hook up with my girlfriend two or three times a month and that's fine, but once in a while -- and it's been getting worse lately -- some guy turns me on."

Joe had stopped by to taste a new limbic beer Sean had brewed with dried cherries. "Not to change the subject," he said, "but the taste is amazing. What's the alcohol content?"

"Eight and a half," Sean answered. "Here's something I made with Granny Smith apples."

As the men continued to sample various beers, Joe seemed to have forgotten Sean's quandary, but as they were sharing a bottle of last December's Christmas ale, he asked, "What kind of guy gets you going?"

"It isn't the guy so much as the action. For instance, I'd always assumed that since Josh lives with Amber, that's how he squirts, but she was up at her parents' house sometime last month and he stayed over here. He woke me up beating off and I about shot in my shorts."

Joe asked, "Do you ever fantasize guys when you jerk it?"

"Sometimes but just at the end," Sean revealed.

-- 1 --

(Josh watches the changing of the signs, talks to two colleagues, and visits Heart of the Valley.)

Although escrow wouldn't close until April 19, Doctor Mueller had rented what had been Alcindoro's Market as of March 1. On that warm rainy Thursday the old sign came down to be replaced shortly thereafter by a new sign reading THE BEER STORE. Watching the installation from the opposite side of the street, Josh told Joe, "We won't finish moving in until Sunday, but we'll have beer on the shelves to reopen tomorrow. What should we do with the old stock?"

"Box it up," Joe answered. "I drank a bottle of the porter last night, and it wasn't half bad. Brad can serve it at the GSA's alumni dinner next month."

A passing car's splash forced the men to retreat. Further under the awning, Josh said, "There's all kinds of crap in those lockers. I could haul it to the dump in my pickup."

"What kind of crap are we talking about?"

"Whatever folks didn't have room for at home but didn't want to throw out like a lot of old pictures and a couple of wedding dresses."

"I'd like to look through it before you toss it," Joe said.

After their conference Joe returned to his restaurant, Josh jogged to campus. That afternoon, following his inventory-control seminar, he asked for two classmates' advice on how best to promote his new project.

Graphic artist Ben Vintoli suggested, "I've been working on a logo for you. You could show it with a list of your prices compared to Sid Cohen's."

A Corvallis retailer's son, Sig Patterson, said, "You'll want to allocate resources. The Gazette has a big circulation but it's relatively expensive. You can staple fliers on telephone poles for practically nothing."

Ben asked, "When can we see what you're selling?"

"Now, for example," Josh answered. "We had the locks changed this morning, and I've got the new keys."

"I'll drive my own car," Sig said. "I promised Jeanne I'd meet her downtown at five."

Riding with Ben, Josh remarked that given the traffic, he could have made the trip faster on foot. Backed up at the stoplight, he asked, "How's it been going with you and Suzanne?"

"Funny you ask that," Ben answered, "because I was about to ask you if you still jerk it now that you're living with Amber."

No longer taken aback by Ben's bluntness, Josh answered, "Well yes, as a matter of fact. She left for her sister's this morning, so I'll probably do it tonight."

"My problem's always been I've never dated a girl as horny as me. She'd be a whore if she was."

As de facto manager, Josh had hired the store's staff, including stockboy Skip Pollock. When Josh entered the storeroom, Skip stopped emptying lockers and asked, "What does Joe want done with all this?"

"He wants to go through it." Spotting a steel box, its lid secured with a padlock, Josh asked, "Where'd that come from?"

Skip answered, "The locker down at the far end. If you try to lift it, be careful -- it's heavy."

The German boys, who'd been painting the main room, entered the rear room; Matthias told Josh, "We regresses to La Porte Rouge now, Freund Yosh, for we has singings, ja?"

Matthias's friend Hansel said, "These days we paints alles you ceilings und Morgen we paints alles you walls nicest weiss, what means white in you languages."

"Okay and thanks a million," Josh said.

After the boys left, Josh caught up to Ben paging through a pile of old 'Playboy' magazines. Something about the Marilyn- Monroe centerfold rang a bell, but Josh wasn't sure why. Oddly, there was no date on the cover.

Ben showed Josh the centerfold from a different issue remarking, "They airbrushed her cunt out."

Glancing over Ben's shoulder, Skip asked, "Why would any guy want to jack off on that? It's fairly disgusting."

Besides the 'Playboy' collection, which Josh supposed must have some value, Skip had discovered a framed aerial photograph of off-campus Corvallis that showed Brad's apartment and Sean's folks' house but didn't show Josh's residence hall. Since Brad's apartment had been built during the Second World War, the photo must have been taken during the late 1940s or 1950s. Turning the photomap over, Josh saw neatly printed, 'Norm Fisher, 917 Eighth St. Corvallis, Ore.' Showing Ben, he said, "Norm doesn't live there anymore. That's where the junior college is nowadays."

"Dudes," Skip called as he inspected a locker, "now here's something that's right up my alley, figuratively speaking, of course." He brought an old-fashioned suitcase to the table and spread out its contents of yellow-edged photographs showing improbably big-chested women engaging in soft-core girl-on-girl action.

"You're lesbophilic?" Josh frowned.

"Big time," Skip replied.

"I'll bet those titties are fake," Ben said. "They probably padded their bras."

After examining the rest of Skip's accumulation, the men left the store. Offered a ride, Josh climbed into Ben's car; heading toward the campus, he asked, "Are you doing anything with Suzanne tonight?"

Ben shook his head, "Nope, I'm a bachelor too. Did you have something in mind?"

Josh replied that at the Valentine's Day meeting of the Gay- Straight Alliance he'd won a fifty-dollar gift certificate from Corvallis Adult Video Rental, the porn store Joe managed. "Amber doesn't like me watching that stuff, so I had to wait till she went out of town."

"I'll watch a movie with you," Ben chuckled, "as long as you've got enough sheets. I'll wash them at my folks' place tonight and bring them back to you in the morning."

"Use the ones on the bed," Josh answered. "They need changing anyway."

At Heart of the Valley the men parked in the lot, climbed to Joe's store, and were perusing X-rated titles when the clerk manning the register called them over. Apparently a friend of Ben's, the clerk nametagged BERT told him, "We got in our Voluptuous Video shipment last night, so I can rent you Ingrid's new movie, but you won't want to let Suzanne know you watched it. It's got one very gay scene." Turning to Josh, he asked, "Aren't you one of the brewers working with Joe at his beer store?"

"I handle the advertising and the bookwork," Josh answered. "Brad, Tim, and Sean brew the beer."

When Bert rang up the sale, the register beeped and Bert said, "Today's your lucky day, Josh. You're our fiftieth customer so you get one of our gift packs. I'm assuming you'll be wanting the straight one."

As Bert was taking the video from under the counter, Josh asked, "What kind of free stuff did I win?"

"A couple of vids, four toys, and some lubes. Everything a guy needs to have fun," Bert answered.

The men left Ben's car parked at Heart of the Valley and crossed the street to the Bijou, where Ben followed Josh to his and Amber's apartment. While Josh opened two pints of Tim's new amber ale, Ben stripped the bed and brought the sheets into the living room. By the time Josh caught up to him, he'd shed his pants and his shorts, had set them on the floor alongside his shoes, and had covered his lap with the white fitted Josh had slept on last night, but since he hadn't doubled the sheet, Josh saw his hardon tenting the fabric.

"Okay, Boner Boy," Josh said, handing Ben a mug full of ale. "Go ahead and let the screen credits roll."

Josh undressed while watching the credits, but he didn't set his clothes on the floor; he tossed them into the hamper. Back in the living room, he covered his lap with the flat sheet just as the safe-sex advisory finished. He slid his right hand under the sheet, massaged his dick-meat, and asked, "Did you start off with a stiffy or did you have to work at it some?"

"I gave it a couple of yanks," Ben replied.

Scene one turned out to be the gay scene Bert had warned Josh about; when the heretofore unseen Dakota took Jake Hall's dick up the ass, Josh switched to scene two wherein Ingrid gave Jake such a superior blow job Josh's hand went to work, as did Ben's. Slow-stroking, Ben said, "This is already feeling real good."

"No kidding -- I'll have to be careful or I won't last out the scene."

The men did manage to survive scene two unbusted, but the next scene proved too much for their overheated libidos. During a three-way where Tori took Dakota deep in her pussy while Bambie licked the young porn-king's choad, the men pounded their cocks, painting the sheets even before Dakota had popped.

Eyeing the dark stain seeping through the cloth in his lap, Josh said, "That was a major explosion."

Ben studied his own sheet and said, "I'm not horny right now, but I will be in fifteen minutes or so. Let's see what you've got in your gift box."

-- 2 --

(Sean works with Aaron, serves beer to Tim's fraternity brothers, and accepts a ride home.)

Weekends had accounted for better than half of Alcindoro's Market's sales, so in order to provide adequate coverage, when he opened The Beer Store on Friday, Josh scheduled himself at the front counter with Skip, Sean tending bar starting at six, and a second stockboy, Aaron Tepper, backing up Sean. That afternoon Sean transferred his inventory from his garage to the store. Driving crosstown in the company van, he asked Aaron, "Where did you hear we were hiring?"

"There was an ad on the bulletin board at Heart of the Valley. How did you hook up with Joe?"

Sean explained that he, Brad, and Tim had been selling their homebrew to local restaurants and that Joe had suggested they expand into retail. "Josh is an old friend of ours -- he helps us out with the bookwork."

Earlier that same afternoon Josh had hauled most of what Skip had removed from the east room's lockers to the Corvallis dump, leaving only a few things on the table. Carrying cases of bock inside, Sean saw the collection of 'Playboys,' the aerial map, a set of champagne flutes, an old-fashioned radio in a mahogany case, a crystal decanter, and the mysterious heavy locked box. Sean asked Aaron, "Did Joe throw out everything else?"

"There's a little bit more in the office," Aaron said. Asked what had become of the lesbian pictures, he answered, "Skip took them. He considers them strokeworthy. They didn't do a whole lot for me, but hey -- whatever gets a guy off's always been my motto."

The Beer Store's business license allowed them to serve on- premise beer provided food accompanied the order, so Joe had supplied the boys' sausages, his aunt's rye bread, and his own spicy mustard. To emphasize the German theme, the boys had decorated the repainted walls with photographs of their youth in what they still called das Vaterland.

After the men had emptied the van, they paused for a snack. Sean stuck a toothpick into a one-inch-long chunk of sausage, dipped it into the mustard, and chewed it, pondering a flavor he couldn't identify. Oregano, he finally decided, or marjoram. That settled, he asked, "Is our working so much over the weekends going to cause problems?"

"Less for me than for you," Aaron replied. "I'm not dating a gorgeous brunette."

"It doesn't change anything for me. Daphne works for her mom Fridays through Sundays in Newport. She doesn't get back here till her first class on Monday."

Aaron asked, "Does her mom run a restaurant?"

"A dress shop," Sean said.

By six customers had filled all the bar stools; by seven they were standing three deep. When Sean asked an outstandingly pretty co-ed why The Beer Store had drawn such a crowd, he learned that unbeknownst to the partners, Joe had placed a notice in the college newspaper saying that the boys would perform.

At seven-fifteen Matthias and Hansel arrived dressed in OSU sweatsuits. Matthias stood on a platform at the north end of the room and began, "Guten Abend meinen Herren und Damen, mostly Damen. These nights, for you listening pleasures, we sings you favoritemost tunes, commencing mit you national anthems."

Even the obscure and somewhat dolorous 'Oregon, My Oregon' drew cheers, and when Hansel segued into the Oregon State fight song, he brought down the house. Following up, the boys shifted to dependable Country-&-Western standards, 'Deep in the Heart of Texas' receiving the greatest applause.

Although the crowd left after the boys returned to Joe's restaurant, a steady stream of curious customers kept Sean and Aaron busy all evening. Shortly after eleven Tim's fraternity brothers arrived en masse, wanting to sample Tim's India pale; Sean went through his entire stock in an hour and could have sold more if he'd had it.

At ten minutes before one Saturday morning, Sean was counting the cash when Aaron asked, "Can I give you a ride?"

Although he'd been planning to walk, Sean sensed an opportunity to learn more about his co-worker; he answered, "Thanks. I've been experimenting with something I'd like you to try."

At home Sean took two bottles of pilsner from the garage to his room, where he poured the golden beer into mugs, gave one to Aaron, and sat at his desk. After discussing The Beer Store's first night, Sean asked, "What part of the state are you from?"

Like Brad, Aaron had grown up in Portland. "I'd have gone home for the weekend," he said, "if I hadn't landed this job. Have you always lived in Corvallis?"

"I've always lived in this house." Since Aaron had mentioned Heart of the Valley, Sean asked, "Do they have stores like Joe's up in Portland?"

"Gaetano's downtown is the best, but it's nothing like Joe's. They don't keep it clean, and the place smells like spooge." Aiming his thumb toward the DVD player in the bookcase, Aaron said, "I wish I had one of those in my dorm-room. What kind of porn do you stroke to?"

"Lately I've been concentrating on Ingrid," Sean answered.

While debating the merits of various actresses, the men emptied their beers; Sean brought two more from the garage, but when Aaron saw it, he said, "Better not. I was sipping leftovers all night at the bar, and I still have to drive home."

Sean hadn't realized Aaron had been drinking earlier. Since the police would be stopping drivers this late at night, he said, "Maybe you'd better stay here."

"Cool," Aaron nodded, reaching for the mug Sean had refilled. "Did you have your first O in this room?"

"Right in that bed where you're sitting," Sean answered.

"I had mine in the shower," Aaron revealed. "Who showed you how to JO?"

Relaxed by the beer, Sean found himself answering questions he'd never been asked before. He told Aaron that no one had showed him how to masturbate, that he'd figured it out for himself. Replying to subsequent questions, he said that he'd first gotten laid as a high-school sophomore, that he'd never shot in somebody's mouth, and that he'd never hooked up with a male.

"I don't do gay sex either," Aaron said, "but I like to whack off with my friends. I do it a lot when I'm home, mainly because a jack-buddy can do things I can't do to myself."

Sean asked, "Like what for example?"

Smiling wanly, Aaron answered, "I'll wait till I know you better to answer that question -- I don't want you thinking I'm weird, and besides, I'm fucked up. Which way to the bathroom?"

After Aaron finished in the bathroom, Sean used it, then returned to find Aaron still fully dressed, lying on his back on the spare bed. Slightly slurring his words, he said, "I tried to take off my shoes and about fell on the floor."

Aaron had tied his running shoes in a complicated double knot that took a while to undo. When he'd removed Aaron's shoes, Sean asked, "Want me to take off your pants?"

"Please," Aaron answered, raising his butt.

Pulling down Aaron's jeans, Sean learned his guest wore undershorts different from anything in Sean's dresser. Pale blue and resembling the speedos Tim sometimes wore, they constricted his gonads. Sean asked, "How can you sleep in those things?"

"I don't -- I sleep naked." Aaron lifted his rear once again.

Owing to his conversations with Joe, Sean had overcome his fears people might consider him gay; he removed the tight-looking shorts, then took off his own clothes except for his boxers and climbed into bed. When he'd switched off the lamp, he said, "Sleep tight," but Aaron must have fallen asleep.

Lying in absolute darkness -- the street light hadn't worked since last summer -- Sean considered what Aaron had meant about his jack-buddies being able to do things he couldn't do to himself. He couldn't have meant they massaged his pecs; Sean could do that and did. Nor could Aaron have meant his partners played with his balls; Sean did that after pushing his shorts to his ankles, and he quickly became so excited he couldn't have fallen asleep without popping, but his arousal didn't disturb him since Aaron had said he often jacked with his friends.

Sean opened the drawer of his nightstand, took out his tube of K-Y, and greased up. Sliding his fist, he recalled that when Josh had stayed over last month, he'd slept in the same bed Aaron slept in tonight. Sometime before morning Sean had awakened to hear Josh pounding pud, and as Sean had told Joe, he'd practically shot in his shorts. Picturing Aaron doing what Josh had, Sean felt himself peaking. Too horny to brink himself, he reached to the floor for a sock.

-- 3 --

(Tim talks to Grady, sees Joe open the padlock, and watches Ingrid's new movie.)

Early Saturday morning, when he came home from The Beer Store, Tim found his roommate Grady O'Connor searching the refrigerator. "I've got some more of that altbier out in the garage if you're thirsty," Tim said.

"Please," Grady replied.

While collecting the beer, Tim reflected that Grady had to be one of OSU's premier hotties. Short and compact, he wrestled at 152, bench-pressed 275, and ran at least five miles per day, in addition to all of which, he could keep up with Tim on a bicycle. The men had round-tripped to Junction City last week. Back in the kitchen Tim gave Grady a bottle and asked, "How'd your date go?"

"Like most first dates," Grady answered. He swigged, nodded, and said, "This is as good as your ales. Come on upstairs and tell me about your grand opening."

Tim's bedroom connected with his brother's via a bathroom; Grady's connected with their fourth roommate Steve Trent's room. In Grady's, Tim said, "Sean sold out of India pale."

"I like this even better," said Grady. "How long do you age it?"

As the men discussed brewing, Tim wondered whether tonight might be the right night to hook up. The last time, Grady had been between girlfriends; then as now, he'd been without partnership sex for too long, so when the beer discussion wound down, Tim asked, "Want to watch Ingrid's new movie?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Grady replied. "It's two in the morning and we both have to work."

Tim had volunteered to take Saturday's early shift because he never slept late whereas his partners frequently did. From nine until nearly eleven, he worked at the front counter alone, selling three six-packs of the commercial brands microbrewers referred to as horse-piss. At ten-fifty, Skip arrived and put on his smock; five minutes later he joined Tim at the counter, confiding, "Me and some buddies drove down to Eugene last night for the ladies' mud-wrestling championships. The girl that won had tits bigger than basketballs."

Leaving Skip alone to contemplate mudwrestlers and tits, Tim moved into the back. He opened a package of Willamette hops he'd received from a friend; it smelled as good as the last batch. Because porters were brewed with soft water, he poured six gallons into his kettle from the storeroom's dispenser. When he couldn't find the chocolate malt anywhere, he called Brad's apartment and asked if he'd seen it.

"Sean may have used what we opened," Brad said, "but there's more in locker 217."

By noon, Tim had brought the wort to temperature; he would mash out in an hour. While waiting, he was trying to put the brewers' supplies into some semblance of order when Joe entered the room, followed by Josh.

"Joe's going to open the box," Josh said.

One bent paper-clip, two flicks of Joe's wrist, and the padlock sprang open. Tossing the paper-clip into the trashbasket, Joe said, "Now let's see what was worth locking up."

The box's weight had indicated that it might contain metal, and it certainly did. When Joe opened the lid, Tim saw hundreds of coins -- dimes, quarters, fifty-cent pieces, and a few liberty dollars, each in its own cellophane package. Holding a dollar up to the light, Joe asked, "Why would anybody abandon something this valuable?"

Joe discovered the answer in an assortment of photographs buried under the coins. Seventeen black-and-white glossies showed a good-looking young man's solo session, starting with his taking his clothes off and ending with squirts.

"That's copious jissum," Joe said. After rechecking several coins, he continued, "They're all dated 1956 -- The 'bator was about twenty back then -- he'll be about seventy now."

Tim asked, "How much is this worth and who owns it?"

"I'll need a numismatist to answer your first question and a lawyer to answer your second." Joe took his cell from his jacket, punched in a number, and said, "Hi Bonnie, it's me. Is Doctor M. in?"

While Joe spoke on the telephone, Tim took Josh aside, asking about the schedule for the rest of the weekend. Josh answered that Sean would be tending bar Saturday evening but that he hoped Tim could cover on Sunday. "Brad and I'll be at the front counter both nights," he said.

Joe locked the coins in the safe before leaving; he returned at one-thirty with an assortment of food that included his Aunt Gertrude's blueberry muffins, her small meat pies, quesadillas, and flan, whereupon Tim said, "Everything you've got looks delicious, but it isn't what you're supposed to be eating with beer. You can save yourself a whole lot of trouble if you'll get us a wheel of sharp cheddar and two boxes of plain Irish crackers." Dubious, Joe asked if crackers and cheese would satisfy the legal requirements. "I think so -- it's what they serve at Muenchner's in Salem," Tim said.

At five Tim rode his bicycle home through a squall, arriving soaked to the skin. He locked his bike in the garage, stripped in the mudroom, and put his clothes into the washing machine. Wearing only his watch, he crossed through the living room, grinning when his brother Mike remarked, "That's a little informal even for you." Mike added, "Some guy from The Beer Store wants to see you. He's up talking to Steve."

Tim climbed the stairs, saw Steve's door open, and entered the room just as his roommate was telling Skip, "Jerry's focused on horticulture -- he doesn't do herbaceous at all. He calls them wwssy plants." Noticing Tim, Steve explained, "Skip's taking the same ag class I had last semester. What did you do with your clothes?"

Tim answered, "They're in the washing machine." He told Skip, "When you're finished talking to Steve, come over to my room." Unsure why Skip had stopped by, Tim crossed the hall to his room and wrapped a towel around his waist. When Skip joined him, he asked, "No mudwrestling action tonight?"

"No, I wanted to borrow your magazine with the lesbian action," Skip answered.

After Skip left with the magazine, Tim was answering e-mails when Grady came in from the hallway. Bare except for his shorts, he asked Tim, "Want to watch that movie you mentioned?"

The men watched the video sitting side by side at the foot of Tim's bed. During the fist scene -- the gay scene involving Jake Hall and Dakota -- Grady pretended disinterest, but his meat stretched his briefs. After Jake had pulled out of Dakota and had spooged all over his back, Grady asked, "Do you take dick up the butt?"

"It's something I've been staying away from, but for you I'd make an exception," Tim answered.

Scene two demonstrated why Ingrid qualified as the porn industry's foremost fellatrix, and Grady's dick leaked. During the third scene's three-way Grady grew so aroused that he shed his shorts. He laid his hand on Tim's towel, saying, "Go ahead if you want."

Before Grady could withdraw the invitation, Tim knelt between his friend's legs, administering a blow job like Ingrid by licking Grady's dick thoroughly before jacking it. When his saliva dried out, he sucked it and jacked it some more. Eventually Grady said, "I'm ready to pop -- finish me off like the last time."

Glad to cooperate, Tim took Grady's knob in his mouth. He sucked the tip while jacking his shaft until Grady had finished unloading.

-- 4 --

(Brad prepares to brew wheat beer, delivers three kegs to the Lambda Tau frat-house, and watches a movie with Aaron.)

In The Beer Store's back room, chaos ruled. On the west end stood the now-empty lockers, wasting several hundred square feet. At the room's east end, Sean worked at a makeshift bar Mr. Alcindoro had built in his garage, serving homebrew to customers teetering on wobbly barstools. Between those two extremes Brad and Aaron worked at a three legged table, the fourth corner supported by boxes.

Flaking barley, Brad asked, "Didn't I see you at the Gay- Straight Alliance's Christmas party?"

"I went with my girlfriend," Aaron answered. "She's got a crush on Joe Dixon."

Brad recalled that Joe's speech that night had recommended maximizing relationships. He asked, "Did you agree with what Joe said?"

"Kind of," Aaron answered. He moved his mouth closer to Brad's ear, lowered his voice, and explained, "I mean I wouldn't want to suck a friend's dick or take him deep up my ass maybe, but I'm a big fan of two-way JO's."

Aaron might not have been quite so frank had Brad not earlier identified his own orientation as totally gay. Following up on Aaron's 'maybe,' Brad asked, "What's the gayest thing you could do?"

While Aaron was considering the question, Josh came into the back; he asked Brad, "Could you break free for ten minutes?"

"As soon as this boils, I'm free for an hour," Brad answered.

"Lambda Tau needs another three kegs, and we're swamped at the counter."

"Tell them I'll be there in twenty minutes," Brad said. When Josh returned to the front, he told Aaron, "You watch the kettle while I load up the van. Meet me in back when you've added the barley."

"I'll load the van -- you add the barley," Aaron replied.

Transporting the kegs gave the men a chance to talk privately. On Harrison Boulevard, in response to Brad's earlier question, Aaron said, "I've let a bud suck me. He wanted to do it, and I wanted to see what it felt like."

By questioning Aaron about his sexual history, Brad learned that his helper had begun jacking off at eleven, that he'd been blown at fourteen by the bud and by girls two years later. He'd fucked pussy twice but considered vaginal intercourse overrated. "The girl I was dating wasn't the tightest," he said, "plus I was wearing protection so I had to pull out and finish myself. Have you ever done bondage?"

Surprised by such an off-the-wall question, Brad asked, "No, what's your fantasy that way?"

Aaron answered that in a movie he'd rented from Heart of the Valley, Karl Wankmeister had been tied up on a bed. "It was at a party," Aaron said, "and everybody molested him -- he jizzed all over himself. It was sweet."

Lambda Tau promoted itself as being friendly to gay, bi, and transgendered male students. Consequently, Brad knew most of its members from Gay-Straight Alliance meetings. When he pulled into the driveway, the fraternity's president, Vince Raines, helped unload the kegs. As he wrestled the first one onto a dolly, he said, "This is the biggest crowd we've had yet." Wheeling the keg up the steps to the porch, he asked, "Don't I know the fox you've got with you from somewhere?"

"He's come to at least one of our meetings," Brad answered. "Aside from that I'm not sure. He's a junior in forestry -- you're a senior in physics."

"It must have been from the meeting," Vince said. "He sure doesn't look twenty-one."

"I agree but he's got a driver's license that proves it," Brad said.

Back at The Beer Store, the men found the boys standing on their jury-rigged stage in a room filled with vixen. While Hansel and Matthias performed their Hawaiian routine, Brad worked at his kettle, resolved to wall off part of the room before somebody backed into the burner. Scorched customers would not make a good advertisement, he knew.

Matthias came to the rickety table after passing his hat. Gesturing toward the cartons strewing the floor, he confirmed Brad's assessment by saying, "Was ein Schlemassel [What a mess]. Morgen we has cleanings und moppings, ja Bradster?"

"I'll meet you here at eleven," Brad answered.

Between brewing his beer and helping Sean at the bar, Brad's evening passed quickly. When the crowd thinned out about midnight, he told Sean, who looked dead on his feet, "You go on home -- I can handle this many folks for an hour."

Brad also suggested that Aaron go home, but he wanted to stay, telling Brad, "I need to put in all the hours I can. Besides, you promised to loan me a movie."

At one Sunday morning Brad locked the cash in the safe, closed the back room, and told his partners goodnight. Walking home beside Aaron, he asked, "When you jerk off with your buddies, how do you do it?"

"Usually watching porn," Aaron answered.

Last September, Tim had moved in with his brother, but he'd left his X-rated-video collection at Brad's. There, Brad took the box from his closet, warning Aaron, "Most of what's in here's bi, so there's mostly two guys doing one girl." Or each other, he thought as he set the box on the bed.

Inspecting the contents, Aaron showed Brad an unlabelled disk, asking, "What's this?"

Brad explained that when the partners had started supplying La Porte Rouge's beer, Joe had suggested they film each other JO'ing. "He said we'd get turned on watching ourselves, and he was totally right. The disk you're holding shows Tim -- mine's in the player."

Aaron said, "It's hard to imagine Sean letting somebody film him."

Brad confirmed that Sean hadn't.

After he'd reviewed Tim's collection, Aaron chose 'Having It Both Ways.' Jake Hall's first partnership movie had paired him with Karl, the men playing opposite Tori Faun. Swapping the disk for the one showing him jacking, Brad said, "Take off some clothes and get comfortable."

"I'll take off what you do," Aaron answered.

Brad undressed while the screen credits rolled, and Aaron undressed along with him. By the time they sat down, Brad knew Aaron still had his foreskin. He said, "My brother Gary isn't cut either."

Scene one showed Jake as Adam and Tori as Eve in a garden. As they were fucking doggie-style on a meadow, Karl came onto the set brandishing a trident that he lay on the grass, then knelt behind Jake and cornholed him while Jake continued fucking Tori.

Slow-stroking his hardon, Aaron asked, "Have you ever been stuck?"

"A couple of times but it hurt," Brad replied.

Scene two showed the men kissing while Tori sucked each of their cocks. Understandably, Aaron didn't find two men making out much to his liking, but he responded to the next scene, in which both men fucked Tori simultaneously. The scene made him so hot that his fist raced, and he spooged at the same time as the porn stars. Watching Aaron excited Brad; he shot before the fourth scene had started.

Brad was drying his nut with a washcloth when he heard the campus bells chiming twice, after which, Aaron asked to sleep on the couch, pointing out, "If I drive home this late on a Saturday night I'm liable to get stopped by the cops."

"The couch isn't very comfortable, but you can sleep in here with me," Brad answered. "I'll leave you alone."

"Don't worry about it -- go with your urges," said Aaron.

Brad marked those words when he awoke two hours later with Aaron's body snug against his, Aaron's hand holding his nutsac. Recalling a similar circumstance when he'd been sleeping with Gary, Brad slid under the covers, located Aaron's soft cock, and took it into his mouth. As soon as it stiffened, he did what had proved so effective with his brother. His lips midway down Aaron's prick, Brad slipped his tongue between the foreskin and cock-knob, then circled the tip, provoking a response dissimilar to his brother's. Whereas Methodist Gary had exclaimed, "Jesus H. Fucking Christ!" agnostic Aaron murmured softly, "Dude, I'm going to owe you."

-- 5 --

(Joe discusses the coins with Doctor Mueller, runs to Bald Hill, and measures the back room at The Beer Store.)

Upon learning the value of the coins, Doctor Mueller suggested, "If at all possible, I would like them returned to the owner."

Gazing out The Beer Store's window at a pink-&-yellow camellia, Joe asked, "Do we bill for the time I spend finding him?"

Doctor Mueller answered, "We may if the task proves difficult, but that doesn't seem probable. You share your father's remarkable talents."

After talking to Doctor Mueller, Joe called Mr. Alcindoro to ask where he might find the pertinent records. The octogenarian answered, "My wife, rest her soul, tended to that, but all she cared about was that a man paid his five dollars by the fifth of each month. What he stored didn't interest her. Any paperwork still around should be on the shelves in the office."

The boxes of filing cards Joe discovered gave the names, addresses, and telephone numbers of hundreds of customers covering the period from 1927, when Mr. Alcindoro's father had opened the market, through 2002, the last year the Alcindoros had rented lockers. Because Joe's interest centered on 1956, he pulled the 158 cards dealing with transactions that year. He faxed them to his grandfather's detective agency along with a cover note saying he would call that evening to explain what he needed.

From the office Joe went to the back room. While he was helping drag the heavy steel lockers onto the loading dock -- a girls club in Albany had offered to take them -- Matthias said, "Gradish what wrestles, he wishes he runs mit you these days. I puts die notes on you desks, ja?"

"I got it, thanks," Joe replied. Spotting two-by-fours, a hammer, and nails on the stage, he said, "Don't spend too much time fixing things up. A cabinet maker's coming tomorrow -- he'll build what we need."

At two Joe left The Beer Store, returned to La Porte Rouge, and changed into his running clothes. He called Grady, suggesting they rendezvous in Chintimini Park; from there, the men headed east along Harrison, their destination Bald Hill. While waiting for the 35th Street signal to change, Grady broke the silence, asking, "Could I get a reservation for Wednesday? It's my girlfriend's twenty-first birthday."

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. When's your next meet here in Corvallis?"

"Against Stanford on Friday," Grady answered.

The men had met two years earlier, introduced by their mutual friend Aiden Lynch. Passing Arnold Park, Grady asked, "How's our favorite geologist doing?"

Joe answered that Aiden had accepted a job as an assistant professor at Lewis & Clark. Once past the park the men picked up speed and concentrated on running until they reached the top of the hill. There, looking down on the city, Joe said, "Tell me about the new girlfriend."

"I've known Tanya for years but we'd never dated before," Grady answered. "She went with Connor Wood for a while."

Joe asked, "Have you cum in her yet?"

"No but it's on the agenda. I'll need to pick up some of your Whisper-Lites."

Last year when Joe's principal supplier of ale, Tim Benson, had been searching for an apartment for himself and his brother, Joe had put them in touch with Grady and a fourth man, Steve Trent. Grady and Steve had wanted to lease a four-bedroom house on 29th Street but had needed two additional roommates. Joe asked, "What are you going to do with your place when Steve and Tim graduate?"

"I've got a cousin who'll be a freshman next fall," Grady answered. "I imagine we can find a guy to take Tim's room. Race me back to the fairgrounds?"

The men sped downhill to the fairgrounds, took time to examine the antique cars on display, and trotted back to the park, where Joe told Grady, "If I don't see you before, I'll see you and Tanya on Wednesday."

"You'll see me before if you're working your usual shift at Heart of the Valley tomorrow. I need to pick up those rubbers," Grady said. Jogging west, he stopped, turned, and said, "If you have any free time tonight I'd like to talk something over."

"I'll be through at the restaurant at seven," Joe answered.

With an hour free before he opened La Porte Rouge, Joe returned to The Beer Store. Now that Brad and the boys had cleaned up the back room, Joe could request estimates for replacing the old scarred linoleum with either carpet or vinyl. He went to the office, returned with a one-hundred-foot tape, and asked Matthias to hold one end while he measured. "Butt your end into the baseboard," he said.

"Yes yes, for I does that. Whyfore Gradish runs mit you these days? No workings he has?"

"They shifted his schedule around," Joe answered. "He worked ten hours yesterday."

Hansel, drinking a coke at the bar, asked, "Was works Gradish does, Yo?"

"He works for Brad's sister at Corvallis Bouquets mainly making deliveries," Joe answered.

At five-forty Joe raced the boys to the restaurant. From six until seven he worked in the foyer greeting customers and in the bar mixing drinks alongside Vic Hammil, a senior majoring in computer engineering. At seven, he joined Grady in his office and asked, "So what's happening, handsome?"

Grady expressed a preference for conducting their discussion in Joe's room, so Joe turned the restaurant over to his assistant Steve Howard. Downstairs in Joe's living room, as the men sat at the table sipping Sean's latest stout, Grady said, "You mentioned one time you had a quick five-question test to tell how straight a guy is."

Joe nodded, "Within a general range. You'll remember from your psychology class that nobody's totally straight."

"I didn't believe it back then -- go ahead and ask me the questions."

"How many times on the average do you spooge in a week?"

Grady took more time to answer than most men, finally saying, "I'd guess five or six. It's not every day."

Joe asked, "What percent of those times are from jacking off solo?" When Grady answered ninety, Joe continued, "Which of these have you done with a girl?" He listed five possibilities.

"All of them except butt-sex," Grady replied. Given another five possibilities regarding his fantasies, he answered, "Everything with a girl and getting head both ways."

Lastly, Joe asked, "Which best describes your sexual orientation? A) totally straight B) mostly straight C) bisexual D) mostly gay E) totally gay."

"I guess I'd have to say mostly straight," Grady replied.

"I'd have to agree," Joe said, "so why did you want to take the test."

Grady answered much as Sean had answered last month, saying, "Because sometimes a guy gets me going, and it didn't use to be like that."

As with Sean, Joe asked, "Any particular type of a guy?"

"Mostly the ones I hang out with," Grady answered.

In all the months they'd been friends, Joe had avoided hitting on Grady; he'd considered him too deep in denial to appreciate any guy-on-guy sex, but now things had changed. Joe asked, "Want to try an experiment?"

Grady said that he did.

Both men in sweatsuits, Joe lay on his back and told Grady to lie on top of him. "Like when you used to dry-hump your girlfriends."

"I wasn't dry very long," Grady smiled, then positioned himself as Joe had directed.

Grady's weight pressing him into the mattress, Joe slid his hands inside Grady's sweatshirt. Rubbing Grady's broad back, Joe asked, "Are you comfortable?"

"Very," Grady answered.

Although the experiment would have worked faster if the men had been naked, it worked nonetheless. After massaging Grady's back for a few minutes, Joe asked, "Are you stiff?" When Grady said that he thought so, Joe said, "Raise up and I'll check."

Grady's biceps flexed when he pushed himself off of Joe; poised in midair, he said as Joe pushed down his pants, "I don't really have the best dick."

Why, Joe wondered as he eyed Grady's hardon, do college men think they have to be hung like a mule to have a good-looking cock? "It's better than the bent ones I've seen," Joe said. He opened the drawer of his nightstand, removed a tube of K-Y, and popped the flap on the cap.

As Joe squeezed a strip of the gel onto his palm, Grady cautioned, "If you jack me, I'll cum on your shirt."

"Cock-snot washes," Joe said. He watched Grady's large blue eyes closely when he greased Grady's meat, seeing wariness give way to enthusiasm. "Instead of me flogging your dog, how about if I put my two hands together and you fuck them like you were fucking a pussy?"

"That might feel really good," Grady acknowledged.

-- 6 --

(Josh notes The Beer Store's improvements, splits a six-pack of ale, and passes out on his bed.)

Much had changed at The Beer Store since Josh had last seen it. By Friday evening Addison's Carpets had covered the floors with new vinyl, Corvallis Furniture Rentals had installed temporary fixtures, and the boys had scrubbed the grimed windows. Joining a classmate at the counter, Josh learned that progress had been made on another front too; Joe had returned the coins to their owner, whose grandson Logan Flint said, "Grandad never expected to see his collection again. Apparently the guy who stole it stashed it here just before the Albany police arrested him for flashing a waitress. The court sent him to Salem -- he died in the mental hospital. It's a good thing Joe's honest. Those coins are worth beaucoup d'argent as he says. I'll be in grad school with you next year thanks to him."

Josh asked, "Did your grandad explain where he got all that silver?"

Logan answered, "A pornographer paid him to jerk off. Grandad knew a lot about coins, and he'd heard the mint was going to start making the silver ones out of crap, so he bought rolls of what he calls uncircs, meaning uncirculateds. He'd put them into individual envelopes and was waiting for the price to go up when the crazy flasher guy stole them. The only thing we're not sure about . . . "

Interrupting Logan's explanation, a Sigma Chi frat-man came to the counter and asked, "Can I have a case of Sean's pale ale?"

Rather than calling for Skip, Josh brought the requested beer from the cold room, rang it up, and asked Logan when the frat-man had left, "How did you do on Smith's midterm?"

"It wasn't as bad as I'd thought," Logan answered.

Both business majors, Josh and Logan had taken many classes together, but they'd never hung out. Their girlfriends had more in common than they did. Like Amber, Logan's fiancee Danya belonged to Tau Beta Tau; also like Amber, Danya went home most weekends. Josh said, "I'm working tonight until ten, but if you're free afterwards I'll buy you a beer."

"I'll take you up on that," Logan said. "See you at ten."

Logan left, and Josh went to sign in, telling Joe in the office, "I didn't realize it when I looked at the pictures, but he does look a lot like his grandad."

Joe agreed, saying, "There's a distinct family resemblance. Would you want to go running with Grady and me after church Sunday morning?"

Josh said that he would.

The Beer Store did even more business its second Friday than its first one due in large part to the crowd that packed the back room for the boys' show. After the throng had cleared out, Josh told Skip, "If a guy was hard up for pussy, he could do worse than come here."

"I'm here all the time and it hasn't helped me any," Skip answered. "Did you see those two blondes? I'll bet the tall one's sucking the other one's titties right now."

Glancing at the wall clock, Josh said, "If you need to JO to that thought, you'd better get started -- I'm leaving at ten."

"I'll wait till I'm home," Skip replied, adding that Joe had loaned him a video.

At ten Josh went in back to sign out, returning to find Logan talking to Skip; the men shared a mutual interest in skiing, Josh learned. Walking home with a six-pack of something experimental Sean had requested he try, Josh told Logan, "I was at Heart of the Valley last week, and I won one of Joe's gift boxes. It's got the outtakes from Ingrid's new movie, but I haven't been able to watch them with Amber around."

Logan nodded, "Danya doesn't like me beating off either. Whenever she sees my load in the shower, she bitches." In Josh's apartment, inspecting the gift box, he asked, "Is Beaver Balm better than Astroglide?"

"I haven't tried the Beaver Balm yet," Josh answered.

The two bottles of ale each man drank while watching the outtakes anesthetized their customary inhibitions. When the half- hour video ended, Josh admitted, "That scene with her and Karl as the milkman made me all-the-fuck horny."

"I about spewed my shorts when she was sucking on Christian," Logan said. "Is that other movie you got any good?"

"I watched it with Ben Vintoli last weekend, and both of us stroked, but it wasn't too gay. We had sheets in our laps."

News of the session failed to faze Logan, who said, "There's nothing gay about two guys flogging the dog. Like we learned in our freshman psychology course, if there was, most guys would be gay." He looked toward the kitchen and said, "Let's finish that ale -- I'll buy the next six-pack."

The next six-pack, however, didn't get bought as Logan had planned, because when the men had finished the last of Sean's ale, neither Logan nor Josh felt capable of walking to the kitchen much less to The Beer Store. By the end of 'Ingrid Does Indy's first scene, Logan had fallen asleep on the couch; at the end of the second, Josh went into his bedroom and tried to beat off, but he passed out while stroking. When he awoke Saturday morning, last night's pre-cum had dried on his hand and his cock, leaving a white, flaky coating.

Logan had left Josh's apartment sometime during the night. He showed up at The Beer Store the next afternoon, taking Josh aside to say, "I'm still into watching that movie. What time are you through here?" Josh answered six; Logan said, "I'll be at your place when you get there." Josh asked whether Logan had jerked it that day. "No, I'm planning on doing it while we're watching Ingrid blow Jake. It's not that I don't like to fuck, but a mouth busts me better, even if the girl's not too good." Josh said it had been his personal experience that few girls sucked dick satisfactorily. "True, but I'm sure Danya means well," Logan concurred. "Sell me a sixer of whatever we were drinking last night."

At ten minutes past six Logan and his six pack were posted outside the Bijou's front door. Inside Josh's apartment he asked as he surrendered the beer, "What about you? Have you whipped it?"

"I tried to last night but I couldn't get off, which means I won't have any trouble today."

Josh opened two bottles, the men sat on the sofa, and Josh started the video, but when he indicated his intention of skipping the first scene, Logan gripped his wrist, saying, "No, let it run -- I've always been interested in what gay guys do to each other."

Josh had supposed he knew what gays did to each other -- they sucked cock and fucked butt, yet scene one began with something familiar; after they'd stripped, the two college men sat on a bed facing and jacking each other. "Even I've done stuff gayer than that," Josh said.

Logan topped Josh's admission by saying, "Last year I gave Jed Michaels head." According to Logan, he and Jed had been playing Truth or Dare with two other business majors, Brett King and Jim Collins. "Jim asked me if I'd ever fucked Danya up the ass. I didn't want to admit that I hadn't, so I took a dare, and he dared me to blow Jed."

"Whenever I play Truth or Dare I just lie," Josh said.

"What's the fun in that? Anyway it wasn't as bad as I'd thought. I wish he'd told me when he was starting to cum, though -- his dick-spit got caught in my windpipe."

Ever since Tim had first claimed that males sucked dick better than females, Josh had wondered how a superior blow job would feel, but persuading Logan to suck him would probably entail his sucking Logan. Could he do it? he wondered. As the men onscreen continued their jack-off, he decided he could. "Would you want to blow me if I blew you first?"

Logan answered, "I was thinking along those same lines except I wouldn't mind me blowing you first."

Having no interest in watching two guys masturbating each other, Josh repeated his offer, whereupon Logan accepted and took off his sweats. Bare, there was something exciting about him Josh hadn't noticed before, and it was more than just his extra-long dick, a virtue he'd inherited from his grandfather no doubt; the jacker pictured in the glossies had been hung like a bull. Also like the bulls Josh had seen, Logan sported oversized balls. Kneeling in front of his spur-of-the-moment partner, Josh asked, "Do girls shriek with horror when they see what you've got?"

"It's not even seven inches," Logan protested.

"Maybe not, but it's as big around as that bottle you're holding." Only the anticipation of his own upcoming blow job allowed Josh to perform; he wrapped his lips around Logan's prick immediately south of the crown. He slid his lips downward, expecting to gag any time, but Logan's knob reached his throat without any significant problem. Bobbing his head instilled confidence; he was almost enjoying the action when Logan said, "Don't breathe through your mouth. I'm going to shoot any second."

-- 7 --

(Sean rhapsodizes over limbics, serves Clark beer, and contemplates catalogues.)

To Sean's way of thinking, the fruit beers called limbics represented a braumeister's ultimate challenge. Sean's best ones evoked memories of bluebirds in the spring or the heady scent of freshly mown grass in the summer, but as he told his classmate Clark a few minutes before The Beer Store closed early Sunday, "When I don't get them just right they taste gruesome."

"That's pretty much the way jacking off is for me," Clark confided. "Sometimes an orgasm's so intense I think I'll pass out -- other times it isn't much different from scratching an itch. It always feels good, but some sessions are definitely better than others." Leaning toward where Sean was working, he asked, "Is it the same with a girl?"

Sean had to admit that it was.

Clark, who had come out of the closet soon after the men had graduated from Corvallis High School, said, "It's always intense with a guy, but I haven't connected that often -- it might get old after a while." He smiled, "I'd sure like to find out."

Nearly four years earlier, when Clark had announced he was gay, Sean hadn't exactly avoided him -- that would have been difficult since the men lived across the street from each other - - but he'd hung around with him less. Now, though, that Sean questioned his own orientation, Clark's experience became relevant. Sean asked, "When did you known you liked guys?" Clark replied that he'd always know, and Sean said, "If you don't mind talking about it, walk home with me. You can try my new cherry limbic."

At one Sean closed the bar, turned the cash over to Tim, and put on his raincoat. Outside, walking with Clark, he said, "There must have been one particular time when you first said to yourself 'I want that guy.'"

Clark could remember two early examples that had demonstrated his attraction toward males. "Freshman year Denny Granger wanted to see how he looked when he spooged, so we borrowed a video camera from school, and I taped him. I got turned on so bad watching him I had to jack too." Clark's other example could have landed him in serious trouble. "After our prom Will Snider was too drunk to drive home. You might remember he passed out at my place. He was wearing his boxers -- I pulled his dick out and jacked him. Next morning he probably thought he'd had a wet dream."

Crossing Harrison Boulevard on a damp, slippery night required the men's full attention, but when they'd reached the north sidewalk, Sean asked, "Who was the first awake guy you did something with?" Sean doubted that videotaping an awake friend or jacking a sleeping one qualified.

"If you count two-way JO's as doing something, that'd be Marty Morris. The first guy I blew was Ted Harris, and the first guy I took up the ass was Trent Larsen."

Sean had already known about Ted; one night, drinking ale, Ted had said that Clark had blown him. Clark's jacking with Marty didn't surprise Sean; some of Sean's teammates too had jacked together, but he couldn't picture the recently married Trent Larsen cornholing a male. When Sean voiced his amazement, Clark said, "His brother had told him ass was better than pussy -- he learned how much better it is."

Sean said, "I've seen Trent in the shower -- he's got a big dick."

"Not as big as my butt-plug," Clark answered.

At home, instead of drinking beer in his garage as he and his friends had done through most of October, Sean took a box labelled CHERRY upstairs to his room. He opened two bottles, poured them into two mugs, and gave one to Clark, who swirled a small sip around in his mouth. When he'd swallowed, he said, "That redefines the term smooth. Do you make it from plain old Corvallis water?"

Sean shook his head, "There's a spring I found this side of Westport. I bring back two fifty-gallon drums at a time." Anxious to learn all he could about same-gendered contact, he asked, "Of all the things you've done with a partner, what made you cum hardest?"

"I love jacking off when I'm sucking a good-looking guy's cock, and I love jacking off with a guy's cock inside me. It's hard to say which one's better."

As much as Sean would have liked to continue the discussion, his clock read 1:42 and he'd volunteered to open The Beer Store at ten, so he told Clark goodnight, adding, "I'd like to pick up where we left off when I get home tomorrow."

"Works for me," Clark said as he stood; he asked if Sean had any lube he could borrow. "I'll pick you up some sample packs at Heart of the Valley before I come back."

Too sleepy to use it himself, Sean loaned Clark his bottle of Astroglide.

Businessman Josh had been lobbying Joe to install a section selling beer-making supplies for a number of reasons. "First off," Josh had said, "the markup's real good and there's no competition -- nobody else sells the stuff this side of Eugene. Maybe more important, our guys will be buying their own supplies wholesale."

Another reason that Josh hadn't mentioned because he hadn't been aware of it was that many vendors required so large a minimum order that Sean had never been able to put one together. After Joe announced Sunday morning that Doctor Mueller had agreed to finance the new venture, Sean spent much of the day drooling over catalogs from London's Prendergast's, Denver's Horn O'Plenty, and Antwerp's de Koonig.

At six Sean signed out, walked home, brought four cold beers upstairs, and called Clark, telling him to come across the street anytime. When he returned to his room after his shower, Clark had set Sean's bottle of Astro and sample packs of Beaver Balm on the desk. Wearing only his bathrobe, Sean swiveled his desk chair so it faced Clark on the bed, asking, "Where did we leave off when you went home last night?"

"I'd told you my favorite ways to get off, but could we talk about you for a while?"

Sean could hardly refuse after Clark's revelations last night; through two bottles of pilsner, he told Clark whatever he wanted to know, no matter how private. Sometimes Clark explained his motive for asking a particular question, such as, "I always wondered whether you two-sport jocks flogged dog as much as us runners," and, "I've pictured you and Tim hooking up."

"Tim's never shown any interest," Sean said. "I don't know what I'd have done if he had."

Once Clark had established that Sean had hooked up with no males and only a very few females, he switched to Sean's fantasies, asking, "Do you ever think about guys when you whip it?"

Twenty-four ounces of eight-percent Pilsen had loosened his tongue. Sean gave the same answer he'd given to Joe, "Yeah but just when I'm ready to finish. I don't know how to explain it but sometimes it feels really good stroking to girls, but -- like if I'm tired and can't bust myself that way -- I'll think about guys. I guess I'm just in denial."

"You're a prisoner of your culture," Clark said, "the same way I was back when I wanted to do all the straight things. Anyway, I appreciate you answering my questions, but I've drunk too much of your beer, and you're tired after working all day, so I'll be heading on home."

Sensing that Clark still wanted to talk and not tired whatsoever, Sean said, "Don't move, and I'll get us another couple of beers from the garage."

While collecting two bocks, Sean wondered if Clark had any interest in the two of them getting together. As with Tim, Sean had seen no indications, but Daphne maintained that he lacked intuition. In the garage, he asked himself if he found Clark attractive, and he decided he did, though in a much different way from Tim, Brad, or Josh. He considered that trio studly, whereas he considered Clark cute. Though Clark had lettered in cross- country every year the men had been at the high, he should be spending time in the gym.

Sean decided to let the evening play itself out. He brought four beers rather than two back to his room. Opening the first pair, he asked, "So if you and I were getting together, what would you want us to do?"

"You name it," Clark answered. "I'd like to watch you jack off, suck your cock, or take you deep."

Of the alternatives offered, Sean dismissed the first out of hand. He saw no reason to think jacking with Sean watching would be any better than jacking alone. He did like getting sucked -- a freshman girlfriend had given him excellent orgasms that way -- but he'd also heard that anal sex produced a better O than vaginal intercourse, and if Clark had taken Trent Larsen, Sean's average-sized cock wouldn't hurt him. Undecided, Sean took the easy way out, "Except for me jacking, I'll let you make the call."

Clark undressed before doing anything else, telling Sean as he took off his shoes, "I've stroked to this many a time." After slicking his cock with a few drops of Astro, he knelt in front of Sean's chair, opened his robe, and swallowed Sean's dick.

As had happened the first time he'd been blown, Sean reacted to the mouth sucking his hardon as if he'd jumped into an icy lake on a hot summer day, gasping for breath and unconscious of anything except the extraordinary sensations, but as the blow job wore on, he regained some measure of coherence, enough to stroke the nape of Clark's neck, to complement his technique, and to hold back for a while. Nevertheless, due to Clark's talent, he shot far too soon.

-- 8 --

(Tim interviews for a job, attends a different sort of a Gay- Straight Alliance meeting, and samples Sean's stout.)

With graduation scarcely four months away, ag majors Tim, Sean, and Brad attended Oregon State's job fair during the third week in March. Brad intended to work in the field; he interviewed with a major producer of soybeans. Sean and Tim hoped to stick with their hobby and were waiting in line to talk to the largest brewer who'd come to the show when Sean asked, "Would you say I'm your best friend?"

The question surprised Tim because it seemed so out of character, but he saw no reason not to reply. He said, "Either you or my brother."

Sean explained why he'd asked after both men had been interviewed. Crossing the quad in the drizzle, he said, "I was talking to Clark Wills over the weekend, and he was asking who I considered my best friend in Corvallis. I've lost touch with all the guys I hung out with in high school, so I answered you." Sean took hold of Tim's arm and led him to shelter under a towering sequoia. "Have you ever wanted us to hook up?"

Because Sean had always discussed sex only in the abstract, the question took Tim aback once again, but he answered forthrightly, "Not in a while. Freshman year I thought you were hotter than anything -- the time we got drunk camping together I nearly tried something, but once I realized you wouldn't be interested, I kind of lost interest too." The spark could easily be rekindled, however, Tim knew.

Sean asked, "What are you doing after the meeting tonight?" Tim said he'd made no plans, and Sean said, "Daphne's sister's in town. The girls want to shop, so how about coming by my place and we'll sample the pale?"

The men split apart to eat lunch with their girlfriends; that same afternoon, sitting behind Sean in their international trade class, Tim recalled the white heat he'd felt freshman year. Back then, the merest physical contact with Sean had triggered his glands, leaving pre-cum spotting his shorts.

While the camping trip had been the only time Tim had come close to hitting on Sean, their relationship had resulted in some of Tim's finest climaxes. He remembered when he'd found a spermed tissue in Sean's wastebasket, had taken it into the bathroom, and had jacked with Sean's nut. On another occasion, while Beth had been masturbating Tim in the back seat of a car, Sean's long-ago girlfriend Pauline had been sucking his cock in the front. Sean's stifled gasp when he'd cum had caused Tim to cum too. During a break in the lecture, Tim leaned forward and asked, "Whose car were you driving the night we all parked on Bald Hill?"

"It seems to me it was my mom's old Toyota," Sean answered.

Lastly, standing in line to ask Dr. Engel a question, Tim reminisced about one of the first nights he'd slept at Sean's house. He'd gone into the bathroom intending to shower, but there had been no dry towels, so he'd returned to the bedroom to ask where he could find one and had walked in on Sean standing in front of the mirror eyeing his hardon and obviously preparing to flog. Dry towel forgotten, Tim had apologized, had returned to the bathroom, and had busted himself faster than ever before. Even now, four years later, he boned at the memory.

Ordinarily gay males, lesbians, and bisexuals attended the same monthly meeting of the Gay-Straight Alliance, but tonight the club president, Becky Strock, had invited a gynecologist to speak, so she'd asked Joe to conduct the men's part of the meeting. At seven, he stood at the podium. "Hey guys, it's good to see all of you again. Since tonight's not the regular GSA meeting, we can dispense with the minutes unless somebody has something specific he wants to discuss." No one raised his hand, and Joe continued, "All right then. I didn't see why the girls should have all the fun, so I've asked a urologist friend of mine, Dr. Stef Wilkins, to join us. He'll answer any questions you have vis-a-vis the male reproductive system."

During the following hour Tim learned as much from the questions as he did from the answers. Matt Leonard asked why a mouth couldn't pop him; Dr. Stef replied that men who exert excessive friction on their dicks when they jack develop a condition called Gilkenism wherein the sufferer requires such intense stimulation to climax that sometimes self-gratification becomes his sole means of release. Tim's partner Brad asked why some men had sensitive pecs and some didn't; Dr. Stef said that men's brains were wired differently when it came to what he called their 'secondary erogenous zones,' i.e., pecs, balls, choad, bunghole, and prostate. Sean said, "A friend of mine likes to masturbate with a buddy because the buddy can do things he can't do to himself. What was he talking about?"

Dr. Stef answered, "A number of possibilities come to mind. A friend could suck on your scrotum or nipples, and he could give you a prostate massage."

With reference to the year he and Brad had been roommates, Tim asked, "What's a safe, legal way to relax your guy's cherry?"

Dr. Stef answered, "You remember the old Spanish proverb, 'Tres dedos y un pito lo mismo,' roughly translated as 'Three fingers equals a penis.' Some night when you're not in a hurry, give him a finger at a time until he can take three comfortably. At that point, he's ready."

When the meeting broke up, Sean and Tim skipped the refreshments, staying only long enough to ask Joe about their schedule for the upcoming weekend. Walking to Sean's, they discussed Dr. Stef's talk, Sean admitting he'd never heard the term 'helicine arteries' and Tim saying, "I was thinking about my Cowper's glands when I saw you this morning. They're what messed up my shorts when we were together."

"If you're talking pre-cum, I don't think my glands work," Sean said. "I saw spots on Josh's shorts once after we'd doubled. He said kissing like he'd done made him leak -- it doesn't with me."

Refrigerating Sean's Munich pale stout would have deadened the bouquet. At home he collected four bottles from the basement, brought them upstairs to his room, popped the caps, and gave one to Tim. Standing at the window, sipping his strong malty brew, he asked, "What prompted the question about how to relax a guy's cherry?"

Tim looked up from the catalogue he'd been studying. "Have you buttfucked a girl?" Sean confessed that he hadn't; Tim said, "I wouldn't call it better than pussy, but it feels just as good. Problem is, it hurts the guy or girl getting stuck." When Sean said he could understand the top-man's incentive, but not the bottom's, Tim doubted he would ever have a better opportunity than tonight. "Take off your clothes and I'll show you."

"I figured this would probably happen," Sean said when he'd dropped his sweat pants, "but I'd feel stupid being the only one naked, so you take your clothes off too."

Long-repressed lust surfaced as Tim watched his partner undress. Naked, he pointed to his cock-knob and said, "That's pre-cum."

"I thought it'd be white," Sean replied as he stepped out of his boxers. "Now what do I do?"

"Lie on your back and hold your legs up in the air." Tim had noticed a bottle of Astroglide beside four Beaver Balm sample packs on Sean's desk. He opened a sample pack and greased his left middle finger, asking Sean, "You've never had a girl give you a rectal?"

Looking distinctly suspicious, Sean answered, "Coleen stuck her finger in there one time, but it surprised me and I lost my erection. Are you planning on using three fingers the way Dr. Stef said?"

"No, this'll be a baby step," Tim replied. "Calm down -- I can see the veins in your neck."

If Tim had intended to fuck Sean or blow him, he would have knelt between his legs, but since he had no plans other than to enlighten Sean as to his anal potential, he sat alongside him. Sliding the finger into Sean's untested tunnel, he asked, "Is that turning you on?"

"It is just a little," Sean answered.

Tim did more than heat Sean just a little when he had all of his finger inside him. By curling the finger, he pressed on Sean's prostate, causing his dick to lift up from his belly. "That'd feel really good if I was getting sucked," Sean said, "but holding my legs like this, I can't even beat off."

Tim had fantasized blowing Sean numerous times; he needed no further encouragement to revise his plans. Withdrawing his finger from Sean momentarily, he shifted positions, adopting the one he'd rejected by kneeling between Sean's spread legs. He slid the finger back in Sean, bent forward, and sucked on his rod, hearing the gasp he expected.

During the blow job, Tim used his finger the way Brad had liked best. He stuck it in deep, curled it around, straightened it out, and slid all but one knuckle out of Sean's ass. While repeating the four-step procedure, he continued to suck on Sean's cock, lifting his head only when Sean's sphincters squeezed tight. "Relax and you'll cum even harder," he said. For the next several minutes Sean did as Tim had requested, but when his orgasm started, the muscles clamped down like a vise.

-- 9 --

(Joe runs to Avery Park, gives Grady a glass of Sean's limbic, and calls Josh about a modeling assignment.)

Owing to scheduling conflicts, Joe's first run with Grady after Wednesday's Gay-Straight Alliance meeting happened late afternoon the following Monday. Taking a break at Avery Park's waterlogged rose garden, Grady asked, "Was what your friend said true about a guy needing to bust every day?"

"Not necessarily," Joe answered. He explained that the best research indicated males between the ages of fourteen and fifty needed to climax a minimum of five times per week, "But most people who've studied the data believe that more would be even better. Are you okay that I jacked you?"

"Totally -- that was hot. I was thinking if you have a different experiment you've been wanting to try, I'm your man." After taking a drink from the fountain, Grady asked, "What's the most times you've popped in a week?"

"I was shooting -- if you'll pardon the pun -- for thirty- two, but I settled for thirty," Joe answered.

"Sheesh," Grady said, "I'm not positive, but I don't think I've ever hit twenty."

Because La Porte Rouge wasn't open on Mondays and Bert Brawley could handle Heart of the Valley, Joe had Monday night free. "Want to head back to my place and see how many times we can squirt?"

"That sounds just strange enough to be fun," Grady answered.

Before they returned to the restaurant, the men stopped at The Beer Store and picked up a quart of Sean's raspberry limbic. Signing the ticket, Joe asked Skip, "Any mudwrestling in your future this week?"

"The season's over," Skip answered dolefully.

"Tori and Ingrid's 'Dyke-O-Rama' came in. Tell Bert I said you could borrow the house copy and to give you one of our gift packs."

"All right!" Skip replied.

From The Beer Store the men raced the thirteen blocks to La Porte Rouge in less than five minutes. Downstairs in his living room, Joe filled two glasses with beer, gave one to Grady, and asked, "Vis-a-vis blow jobs, who's given you your most toe- curling O?"

"That'd be Tim -- I was sweating like a bastard by the time I erupted," Grady answered.

Grady had won both of his matches at Stanford over the weekend. Noticing him frowning at his glass, Joe asked, "Do you have a problem keeping your weight down?"

"No more than everybody else," Grady answered. "This isn't anything like what Tim brews."

"Limbics are distinctive," Joe agreed, setting his glass on the coffee table. He moved behind where Grady was standing, wrapped his arms around the wrestler, and pressed his crotch against Grady's taut butt. "That feels good on my dick," he remarked.

"Mine's getting hard," Grady replied. "How do you want to bust first?"

"Let's discuss it while we take off our clothes," Joe answered.

Grady had a magnificent body and knew it. He pulled off his rugby shirt, his pants, and his briefs. Muscles flexing, he asked, "If you were a girl would you want me inside you?"

Joe shrugged, "I'm a guy and I want you inside me so I probably would."

"Let's do that then," Grady said.

"It'll take me a minute to get ready," Joe answered. He picked up a Whisper-Lite condom and tossed it to Grady, suggesting, "You can save time by putting this on while I'm gone."

When Joe returned from the bathroom, Grady, his cock in the rubber, was standing at the bookcase, paging through 'The Anal Appendix,' researching assorted positions. Asked which worked best, Joe replied, "Ten different guys would give you ten different answers." Joe had designed a twelve-sided novelty die he sold at Heart of the Valley, each face showing a different position for cornholes. He took one from his drawer, gave it to Grady, and said, "Let this show us the way."

"Okay, but if it comes up rodeo-sex, I'm rolling again. A girl was riding me one time, and she about broke my dick."

"A cautionary tale for us all," Joe remarked.

Due to his fear of Peyronie's, Grady found the position he rolled much to his liking; the top face of the die showed two men on their sides, the one in back drilling the one lying in front, who was jacking. "I've done that with girls," Grady said.

Unmaking Joe's bed, the men pulled back the spread and the quilt, leaving only the sheets. They positioned themselves like the men on the die, and Grady eased his prick up Joe's ass, remarking that it did indeed feel like a pussy. "I guess Tim wasn't lying," he added.

Joe asked, "Did Tim say who he'd poked?"

"No but I kind of think it was Brad -- they lived together last year."

Though Grady had never done anal before, he'd done vaginal intercourse enough times that he coped with the powerful sensations stimulating his cock. Whereas a novice would have spooged after a few dozen thrusts, Grady survived hundreds, all the while jacking Joe. Yet as all good things must end, so eventually tonight's session did too. When Joe could resist the forces within him no longer, he launched rapid-fire streamers. At the same time, the muscles surrounding Grady's hardon clamped down, finishing him.

"Kudos," Joe said as Grady's cock slid out once again, this time all the way. "I can't imagine a girl breaking up with you."

"There's always been something," Grady answered. "The last one said all I wanted was sex, like that's a bad thing."

"Not in my book," Joe said, rolling onto his other side so he could remove Grady's condom. Holding it up to the light, he said, "Typically a guy's second squirts are about the same as his first, but it tapers off after that." He tossed the rubber into the wastepaper basket.

During their refractory periods, the men compared their early orgasms, in Joe's case two years of wet dreams before he'd finally masturbated. "It seems like at least one night every week I'd wake up with my shorts soaking wet. Back in the Nineties, some people still thought jacking was bad, or at least something that shouldn't be talked about."

"I had a high-school coach that said not to do it the night before matches," Grady replied. He slid his hand between Joe's legs, fingered his butthole, and asked, "What kind of grease did you use?"

Joe replied he'd used Beaver Balm, then took the phone off his nightstand, got Josh on the line, and said, "Hey slick, there's an athletic-gear outfit down in LA that's looking for models. I showed them your picture, and they think you'll be perfect, but they want to see you in a swimsuit. Do you have anything handy?" Josh answered that he had a picture his girlfriend had taken last summer, so Joe said, "Attach it to an e-mail and send it to tennysons_fashions -- there's an underline between the two words -- that's tennysons_fashions@melrose.net. Nothing may come of it, or you may make a few bucks, and if you've got two good-looking friends who wouldn't mind showing their skin, send their pictures too."

While Joe had been talking, Grady had retrieved the condom; when Joe switched off his phone, Grady asked, "Is that more nut than the average?"

"By about twice," Joe answered, "which suggests it had been a while."

Grady nodded, "There were four of us in a motel room in San Jose and I got home so late last night I didn't do it then either. Right before I busted just now, it felt like my brain was about to explode."

Grady's dick having restiffened, Joe said, "Lie on your back, and we'll see if I can pop you as hard with my mouth."

-- 10 --

(Brad tests an ex-professor's hypothesis, walks home with Skip, and remembers last summer's friend Jackson.)

In Brad's freshman year's introductory psychology course, Professor Collier had claimed that lesbophiles rendered their fascination with same-gendered sex acceptable by transferring the interest to women. Working with Skip Friday night at The Beer Store, Brad asked, "What's the closest you've come to hooking up with a guy?"

"Not close at all," Skip answered, but after ringing up a keg for a frat-man, he admitted, "Well, there were a couple of times, but not all that much happened."

Although Skip differed but little from the average OSU upper-classman, Brad found the engineering major's rangy build and buzz-cut appealing. "Are you planning to go to bed right after work, or would you want to swing by my place for a beer?"

"I could stay up all night drinking more of that lager," Skip said.

In the month the men had been working weekends together, Brad had learned that Skip and a younger cousin named Kyle shared a one-bedroom apartment, that both skiied, and that Kyle shared Skip's obsession. According to Skip, while the cousins had watched 'Dyko-O-Rama,' Kyle had twice locked himself in the bathroom. "At least I waited till the movie was over," Skip had told Brad.

At two Saturday morning, Brad put the cash in the safe, locked the front door, and walked home with Skip walking beside him. They crossed to the south side of Van Buren, turned right, and were heading west when Skip asked, "Lesbians don't do anything for you?"

Brad thought, Girls in general don't do anything for me; he answered, "Not at all." Once they'd crossed 17th Street, he climbed the three steps to his porch, opened the door, and waved Skip inside.

Brad had bought the current issue of Penthouse to arouse any bi's or semi-straights who came by. Noticing the magazine on Brad's desk, Skip snickered, "I suppose you just read the articles." He studied the centerfold while Brad poured two beers, telling Brad as he accepted a glass, "If this was at my place, the pages'd be stuck together."

Last Sunday Skip had told Brad that the previous night he'd smoked marijuana and had jacked off three times. "Good weed gets my juices flowing," he'd said. Tonight, Brad asked if he wanted to smoke a pipeful of something Joe had brought back from Hawaii called Kona Kai Dank.

"Fantastic," Skip answered.

Packing the pipe, Brad reflected that he'd not been entirely frank with the stockboy, because while he'd mentioned his attraction toward males, he hadn't described himself as exclusively gay. He sat on the couch, lit the pipe, and invited Skip to sit alongside him. By the time they finished the bowl, Brad could feel the effects of the powerful weed, as could Skip, who admitted, "Dude, I am wasted."

Brad asked, "At the store, what did you mean when you said 'Not all that much happened'?"

"The first time me and my buddy just jerked it together." Skip slid his butt to the front of the cushion, leaned back, closed his eyes, and remarked, "Fuck but I'm horny. How about you?"

Brad had been horny before smoking the dope; now, his raging urges demanded attention. Rubbing Skip's fly, he said, "Let's get naked and I'll give you an O."

Skip made it to his feet and lurched toward the bedroom; Brad followed to prevent him from falling. Skip sat on the bed, asking as he took off his shoes, "Who's the guy in the tank top?"

"My brother Gary. He graduates from high school in June -- he'll be moving in here after that."

Skip slid off his pants and left them in a heap on the floor with his briefs lying atop them. He stretched out on the bed next to Brad, held Brad's hardon, and said, "Go ahead."

Sophomore year, Brad had spent several nights with his physiology 101 TA, Matthew Carlisle. Their first time together Matt had demonstrated how to keep a man brinked by massaging just the hard parts of his cock. That lesson remembered, Brad forked his middle- and forefinger; sliding them down the side of Skip's rod, he said, "This part of your dick's called the corpus cavernosum."

"Feels good whatever it's called," Skip said. "What else do you do to your friends besides jack them?"

"Whatever they want except letting them stick me," Brad answered. "Do you want me to blow you?"

"Not tonight -- I'm too hot. Keep on what you're doing," Skip answered.

Brad couldn't do all he wanted in his current position; he relocated himself, spreading Skip's legs and lying between them. Lifting Skip's thighs allowed him to lick his partner's choad, dragging his tongue from Skip's bung to his nutsac. When he'd done that a few times, he shifted his attention to Skip's balls, massaging one with his lips and one with his fingers for several minutes before Skip said, "They're starting to ache -- go ahead and finish me off."

Under similar circumstances Matt had sucked Brad, but he'd backed up his jissum, resulting in a protracted session whose second phase had been even better, so Brad slid his mouth up and down Skip's dick until Skip said, "I'm cumming," then pressed his thumb against Skip's choad-ridge with the same effect as the time Matt had done it to Brad. When Skip's choad stopped throbbing, Brad said, "I realize that felt strange, but you'll be able to cream again in a couple of minutes."

"It felt fantastic," Skip said. "How are you planning to bust."

"I figured I'd wait till you shoot again, then jerk myself off," Brad answered.

"You can do that some time I'm not here, but if you want to wait, that's okay." Sounding distinctly less stoned, Skip asked, "When you and Tim lived together, did you connect every night?"

"Most nights we were both home, but sometimes he stayed at Beth's, and I had outside friends too." When Skip asked if Tim and Brad had ever had a third partner, he answered, "Yes, that's a big turn on for me." Brad disclosed that a mutual Gay-Straight Alliance buddy liked to suck dick and get fucked. "Steve's a really great guy and he can keep going all night," Brad said.

"Kyle and I fantasize three-ways with ourselves and a girl," Skip said.

Brad moved on to less-troubling subjects by beginning Skip's second session even before his dick had gone totally stiff. Still lying between the budding engineer's legs, Brad moved his sac to the side in order to lick the groove between his thigh and his gonads. Next, he reprised his tongue-massage of Skip's choad, following which he sucked on Skip's balls, but before moving on to Skip's now-steely cock, he paused to ask, "Do you like having your nips sucked?"

"Kyle plays with them when I'm tugging my tool, but nobody's actually sucked them," Skip answered.

Dr. Stef's answer to Tim's question about tit-sensitivity hadn't been awfully helpful. Brad wasn't responsive to pec massage nor was Tim, nor were most men they'd been with, but a freshman Brad had dated last summer named Jackson had been unable to climax effectively without it. Perhaps Skip would prove to be like him. Testing, Brad slid higher until his chin rested on Skip's breastbone and asked, "Does Kyle pinch them or rub them?"

Skip answered, "It used to be he'd lie beside me and rub them. Last week, though, I won one of those gift packs at Heart of the Valley, and it include a set of tit-clips, so he puts those on my nipples and tugs on the chain."

Brad had bought a set of the very same clips that he'd used on Jackson. He took them out of his desk and attached them to Skip. Then, when he sucked on Skip's cock, he punctuated the session with occasional tugs on the chain, leading to a second orgasm wherein Skip spasmed more load than he had the first time.

-- 11 --

(Josh poses with friends at Riverfront Portraiture, works at The Beer Store, and visits Heart of the Valley.)

Rain had fallen every day for the past seventeen days, and next week's forecast promised more of the same. Saturday afternoon, as the trio climbed the stairs at Riverfront Portraiture, Josh told his friends Ben and Sig, "I've forgotten what the sun looks like."

"March has been worse than December," Ben said.

Tennyson's Fashions had hired the three business majors to model a new line of swimwear. In the studio Diane Windsor, whom Josh knew from Gay-Straight Alliance meetings, gave each man a pair of trunks, saying, "The dressing room's down the hall, first door on your right."

The dressing room's window afforded an excellent view of the Willamette River from so high above the ground no one could look in. Shedding his sweat suit, Sig told Josh, "That's sweet you got us this job -- my truck needs new tires."

Naked and apparently in no hurry to dress, Ben stood at the window, his pubes only slightly below sill height. Gazing down at the water, he said, "Any higher and it'll flood south of town." He turned, looked Sig over, and said, "You've lost weight."

Sig replied, "I hate to cook for myself -- I'd almost rather not eat." Sig's girlfriend Janie had moved out of the apartment they'd shared; she'd been staying at her sorority house.

When the men had put on their swimsuits they returned to the studio, where they spent the next two hours posing for ads that would run in various publications, most of them gay ones to judge by the positions Diane designed. In one, for example, Josh stood flanked by his classmates, his arms around Ben and Sig, who rested their heads on his shoulders. In another, Ben and Josh had stretched Sig's waistband; they were peering inside his trunks at his cock. In the photo Josh considered the lewdest, Sig was sitting at one end of a beach towel with Josh stretched out on the towel, his head in Sig's lap; Ben sat at the other end of the towel, massaging Josh's toes.

After the session, as the men changed back into their street clothes, Sig told the others, "Don't read too much into my woodie. I should have jerked off before we came down here."

Unfazed, Ben laughed, "Considering what I was doing I was just glad Josh had showered." Tapping Josh's shoulder, he asked, "What have you got going tonight?"

Josh answered that he would be manning The Beer Store's front counter until ten. "Swing by anytime after the boys' show - - I'll buy you guys beers."

That night followed the usual pattern, Josh signing in at four-thirty but not selling much until six, when the fraternity crowd began showing up. From then until the boys finished singing at eight, Josh, Skip, and occasionally Joe sold case after case, keg after keg. Finally, when the co-eds cleared out, Josh drank a coke in the office, returning to find Ben and Sig talking to Joe about Heart of the Valley's new movies. Joe told Josh, "From what Bert says, 'Tori Does Tucson' is hot. Take in the UPC label from the outtakes in the gift box you won and Bert'll loan you a copy." After a glance at his watch, he continued, "I have to be at the restaurant till nine, but I'll cover for you here after that. You're probably tired after that modeling session."

Joe returned to La Porte Rouge; Josh worked at the counter with Skip while Ben and Sig drank beer at the bar. At nine, when Joe returned as he'd promised, Josh left with his friends. At his apartment, he collected the label Joe had specified. Standing beside him, Sig asked, "What's that thing with the wires?"

Standing behind Josh, Ben answered, "They call it a Vibro- Jacker. You plug it into an outlet, stick in your dick, and it pops you." Sig asked how Ben knew. "They had one at my brother- in-law's bachelor party. I didn't use it that night, but another guy did. It looked like he had a heck of an O."

The men crossed the street to Heart of the Valley, picked up 'Tori Does Tucson,' and took it to Josh's. Hanging his coat on the rack, Ben said, "I should have bought us a six-pack but I didn't think of it. Is it okay if I call out for some brew?"

"Call Joe and he'll have it here in ten minutes," Josh answered.

Joe exceeded Josh's expectations in more ways than one. Not only did Aaron deliver a twelve-pack of Pilsen before the screen credits had finished, but he also didn't charge Ben, explaining, "This is something Sean's been dicking around with -- let him know how you like it." He accepted a five-dollar tip, thanked Ben, and noticed the action onscreen. "The first scene's outrageous. I just about creamed my jeans," he said leaving.

In the living room, as the men sat three abreast on the sofa, Josh didn't find the first scene so much exciting as disturbing. In it Christian Haydensen had been tied to a table; Tori and Ingrid took turns abusing his ass with a dildo identical to the one in Josh's gift box.

Sharing Josh's discomfiture, Ben said, "That'd hurt bad."

"Not Christian," Sig said. "In a movie my brother Ted pirated, he takes it up the butt from Jake Hall. Jake's dick's bigger than that vibrator thingy."

In contrast, scene two heated all three men, showing Ingrid giving Dakota a tongue bath. As she licked the blond newcomer's choad, Ben remarked, "I've only had one girl do that to me -- it was awesome."

Sig said, "I had a pre-op from Lewis & Clark do it. Damn but she, I mean he, gave good head."

Ben frowned, "You let a guy suck your whang?"

"She had really big tits, and besides, my dick didn't know," Sig answered.

Orally speaking, Sig's shemale could hardly have been better than Ingrid, who gave Dakota sensational head. After the porn- star's dick finished spewing, Sig asked Josh, "Would you be all right with me using your toy, assuming there's a plug in your bathroom?"

"There's a plug," Ben replied, "but it's the kind you can't get a shock from. The Vibro-Jacker keeps kicking it." He told Josh, "I tried to use it last Saturday after you went to The Beer Store."

Josh laughed, "I used it on myself after I came home that night. The plugs in here work just fine." Pausing the movie, he went to the bathroom, brought back the gift box, and gave the Vibro-Jacker to Sig.

After Tori and Karl hooked up in a mundane fuck scene that turned Josh's dick limp, Sig shed his pants, saying, "My brother sent me an e-mail about this last scene. He said he watched it twice and spewed both times."

In one of the most arousing scenes Josh had viewed, Bambie and Tori played girlfriends opposite lesbophiles Karl and Dakota. The women offered to let the men watch them connecting if the men too would connect, leading to numerous remarkable, if slightly preposterous, couplings.

Sig slid his rod into the toy while the girls performed mutual cunnilingus, but he forewent switching it on until Dakota was ass-fucking Karl. Over the machine's buzzing, he said, "Everybody I've talked to says ass feels better than pussy."

"A virgin's pussy's as tight as an ass," Ben said, "not that that does guys our age a whole lot of good." Rather than taking his sweat pants all the way off, he pushed them and his briefs to his knees. He told Josh, "I'll cover up with a sheet if you want."

Having blown Logan, Josh saw nothing offensive about watching Ben jacking. He too pushed his pants down and said, "Let's see who can squirt farthest."

Sig too wished to compete, but he'd gotten too close. Sliding his dick out of the Vibro-Jacker, he triggered. His cock leapt upward, he winced, and he shot off a spunk-stream that seemed to hang in midair before plummeting downward into his lap, after which the two men remaining busted themselves before the scene ended.

-- 12 --

(Sean agrees to accompany Josh to Portland, reflects on the emergence of spring, and chooses a movie at the Paradise Lodge.)

Sean's emergence from denial allowed him to understand what before had been hidden. Tuesday afternoon, inventorying backstock with Joe, he said, "I told you how turned on I got the night I heard Josh beating off, but until I connected with Tim, I'd never realized why."

"It sneaks up on a guy," Joe agreed, "and speaking of Josh, he's taking the van up to Acme tomorrow. Any chance you could go with him and help him load up?"

Sean replied that he could.

After his last Wednesday class, Sean slid into the van's passenger seat, and Josh headed east toward the freeway. In town the men discussed the ridiculous weather; the past twenty-four hours had brought wind, hail, rain, even snow. Once on the highway, Sean asked, "What time would you guess we'll be home?"

"It's two hours there, an hour to load, and two hours back. I told Amber to expect me by nine."

Despite the wintry conditions, the vernal equinox had come and had gone. Looking skyward, Sean spotted the largest flock of geese he'd seen all month; on both sides of the freeway, yellow forsythias bloomed. "Spring's here," he remarked.

"Remember when we were taking psych 101?" Josh asked. "Professor Collier wanted us to keep track of our orgasms. April was my best month of the school year."

"For me it was May -- I'd just started dating Pauline, and I was constantly horny." Recalling their teaching assistant, Sean said, "I got a message from Dylan McFadden. He's at Clemson -- he says he misses the beer here."

"Thanks to you guys, this is probably the best place in the country for brew," Josh remarked. "What was different about the pale ale you served me on Sunday?"

A discussion of beers, primarily ales, took the men into Beaverton, where Josh asked a service-station attendant to fill the tank. Showing Sean a new platinum Visa, Josh said, "Joe loaned me his credit card from Heart of the Valley."

Joe's credit card came in handy in Portland. At Acme Brewing Supplies, the loading dock supervisor, Jim Perry, whose voice Sean recognized from their telephone conversations, said, "I've got everything but the Cascade hops you and Brad wanted. The Hop Shoppe guaranteed they'd be here by nightfall. If you want to take the rest of the order, I'll FedEx the hops first thing tomorrow."

Sean's watch read six-ten. "I'd rather grab something to eat and come back. I want to temper my wort before class."

Even though the Cascade hops arrived while the men ate sushi downtown, another problem had arisen. Loading the cartons, Jim Perry said, "A big-rig jackknifed and rolled over just south of the city. ODOT [Oregon Department of Transportation] closed all three southbound lanes." He added doubtfully, "I guess you could go back down the coast."

Neither Josh nor Sean wanted to turn a two-hour drive into an eight-hour one by taking the coast route; after Josh called Joe to report, he told Sean, "The boss says to forget about the coast route, that we should find a motel and come home in the morning."

Jim Perry recommended the Paradise Lodge as clean and affordable; Josh drove the men there and checked in. While he talked to Amber, Sean walked down the street to a drug store, where he bought toothbrushes, toothpaste, razors, and shaving cream. Back at the motel, as he was unpacking his purchases, a man who identified himself as a messenger from Gaetano's Adult Toys & Books arrived with a box, telling Josh, "Mr. Dixon needs these things at Heart of the Valley. They were sent to us by mistake."

When the delivery boy left, Sean examined the box, learning that it contained samples of assorted erotica. Besides a wide assortment of lubes, he found individually packaged Whisper-Lite condoms, brochures describing Voluptuous Video's latest releases, and catalogues picturing various sex toys. The box also contained display models of two toys; a sleek vibrating dildo that buzzed when Sean turned the switch and a fuckable porta-puss. Joining Sean, Josh picked up the dildo and said, "I'd like to use this on Amber."

I'd like you to use it on me, Sean thought silently.

While Josh continued inspecting the box, Sean turned on the television, bringing onscreen an ad for pay-per-view videos with a list of the ten movies most often watched so far this month, including 'Ingrid Does Indy' and other straight favorites plus something called 'Boys Night Out' starring Jake Hall, Dakota, and Christian Haydensen, all of whom Sean had seen doing heteroporn. Confident that Joe wouldn't mind his taking a look at the wild side, Sean moved the cursor to the appropriate number; he said, "If this is too gruesome, I'll get something else."

"Watch whatever you want -- I'm going to shower," Josh said.

'Boys Night Out' began at a costume party with Jake dressed as a pirate, Christian as a deputy sheriff. When the men's dates, played by Bambie and Ingrid, left to go shopping, Jake and Christian descended a stairway leading to a basement, but while they were taking their clothes off, Josh called, "Could you bring me my toothbrush?"

Sean collected everything he'd bought at the drug store and took it into the bathroom, affording him an awe-inspiring view of Josh bare. Unable to resist the temptation, he said, "We won't be seeing our girlfriends tonight -- how about if we stroke?"

"I was hoping you'd want to," Josh answered.

Back in the bedroom, Sean switched off the TV to avoid being distracted, shed his clothes, and asked if Josh wanted lube, which he did. "Bring me one of those Beaver Balm samples," he said.

Sean also chose Beaver Balm, took two packets to the bed, and lay beside Josh, shoulder to shoulder. Greasing up, Sean said, "This'll relieve a few tensions."

Also greasing, Josh replied, "I'm curious to see how you get yourself off, like whether you brink."

The time seemed propitious. Sean said, "I know you do since I heard you the last night you stayed over. One time you quit for so long I thought you'd erupted, but then you started back in."

"I couldn't decide whether to finish up in the bathroom or to stay where I was. It was a cold night -- I decided to stay."

The night in question Sean had heard something puzzling; he asked, "Why did you groan every once in a while?"

"I was remembering the first time a girl blew me," Josh answered.

Tonight with Josh lying beside him, Sean needed no fantasy. Each stroke produced better-than-usual feelings. Clark had said his orgasms sometimes nearly made him pass out; a similar climax tonight wouldn't have surprised Sean. He said, "This is feeling especially fantastic."

"This is totally awesome," Josh answered, "and I want it to last for a while so let's talk. What's been your best session this year?"

Aside from the ten or so times he'd connected with Amber, Sean had partnered only with Clark and with Tim. "I finally hooked up with Tim," he answered. "He gave me a rectal and blew me."

"I let a friend blow me too, but he didn't play with my ass," Josh said. "Would Daphne be into a cornhole?"

The men continued to jack while speculating about their girlfriends' levels of tolerance. When the totally good feelings kicked in, though, Sean lapsed into silence, devoting his full attention to his partner. When both had moved to the start-and- stop technique Brad called brinking, Sean asked, "How about if you cum on me?"

Without missing a stroke, Josh got onto his knees, straddling Sean. During the next pause, he gasped, "Play with my balls?"

Sean's ungreased hand tugged on Josh's nutsac; his greasy one continued to stroke his own cock, keeping himself at the edge without busting. When Josh leaned forward, aimed his dick at Sean's face, and announced he was ready to cum, Sean pulled his trigger, then let go of his own prick so he could slide his finger deep into Josh as both men emptied their loads.

-- 13 --

(Tim jokes with his brother, takes Kronecium, and attends Monday's classes.)

April Fool's Day provided an opportunity for innocent if puerile amusement. That Sunday morning Tim entered his bathroom to find a photograph of himself masturbating taped to the mirror; his brother had shot it with his cell-phone, Tim guessed. Retaliating, he knocked on Mike's door, saying, "Danielle just called -- she tells me she's pregnant."

Mike yawned, "Not by me -- I never fucked her. Go to church or The Beer Store or something and leave me alone."

Studying his reflection, Tim realized he needed a haircut and decided to get one before reporting to work. He returned to the door and told Mike, "I'll be home for dinner tonight."

"That's swell, bro," Mike replied, "truly swell."

Kwik Cuts, the barber shop located on Heart of the Valley's first floor, had one man cutting hair and three future customers reading the Sunday Gazette. Deciding his haircut could wait, Tim climbed the stairs to Joe's store, bought a bottle of Astro, and asked his fellow bisexual Bert, "Have you seen the master 'bator this morning?"

Pointing, Bert answered, "In his office."

Leaving the bag containing his lube at the counter, Tim knocked on Joe's door, was told to come in, entered, and sat in a chair. With reference to a conversation he'd had while working last night, he asked, "Do you have any more of that Kona Kai Dank? Brad says it's the bomb."

"I split my last eighth between Aaron and Grady," Joe replied, "but my bud Marty White tells me Kronecium works the same way." He took a bottle of tablets from his drawer, gave Tim two, and cautioned, "After you take this you can't drive for eight hours, so be careful."

Tim dropped the pills into his T-shirt pocket and forgot all about them until he was locking his bike in the garage after work. In his room he googled Kronecium, learning that what doctors prescribed as a muscle relaxant also heightened libido. Inter-Island Pharmaceuticals' site claimed, 'Sometimes referred to as the honeymoon drug, Kronecium enables even the most timid to respond to his or her initial penetration with eagerness.' The Gay Pharmacopeia's review stated, 'The ingestion of 500 milligrams of Kronecium thirty minutes prior to sodomy will permit even a neophyte bottom to comfortably take practically anyone.'

Tim set the pills on his desk, tossed his tee in the laundry basket, and showered, then invited his brother to join him for dinner. "I'll run down to Dino's and pick up a pizza," he offered.

"Just a large," Mike said, "we're the only ones home."

Walking the two blocks to Dino's, Tim considered possible partners. Sean would be excellent, but he'd want to be on the bottom and Tim had already topped Brad. He ran through a mental list of a dozen close friends without reaching any conclusion, but as things turned out, his failure didn't matter, because when he returned from the pizza shop, Mike asked, "What's in those pills on your desk?"

Tim answered, "Kronecium -- it's supposed to make you relaxed and horny."

"I probably shouldn't have taken one. I thought they were allergy pills," Mike said. "Maybe I'll head up to that party in Albany."

Tim replied that Mike couldn't drive anywhere before morning. "I'll hide the keys to our car if I have to," he said.

Before he went downstairs for dinner, Tim swallowed the second pill, leaving him ten minutes behind Mike. Consequently, by the time they were washing the dishes, Mike was remarking on how aroused he'd become, but Tim wasn't feeling a thing. Soon thereafter, however, when his pill kicked in too, he said, "Time to get started." To be on the safe side, he took the car keys upstairs with him.

Like Josh, Tim had won a gift pack from Heart of the Valley. Unlike Josh, though, he'd requested the bi version. In his room he took the box from a drawer and spread the contents on the top of his desk. Undressing, he debated which of Joe's movies to watch.

A phone call from Beth postponed Tim's watching either. She was spending the weekend at her married sister May's house; she'd learned that their cousin Tess would be having a baby shower next weekend. Uncertain what to buy for a present, she wanted Tim's thoughts.

Tim had finished the call and was putting a disk into the player when his brother came in from the bathroom. Stripped to his boxers, he asked, "Want to get me off like you did at the river?"

On the night in question, the brothers had been sharing a tent, and Tim had awakened to hear Mike tugging tool. He'd volunteered to finish Mike with his mouth, an offer the younger man had accepted, though he'd afterward insisted such action would never recur. "Lose your shorts," Tim replied.

Monday morning Tim woke doubting he would ever want sex again. He'd jacked while blowing his brother, jacked twice more while watching Joe's video, and jacked a fourth time before falling asleep. But twenty-two-year-olds recuperate quickly; by the end of his last class, he felt ready for action, so he swung by Heart of the Valley to ask Bert if anything new had come in.

"No but I'm glad you stopped by," Bert answered. "My brother wants to throw a beer-tasting party next month. Joe says you're the man." He reached under the counter, handed Tim a purchase order from Chi Beta Phi, saying, "Call Nate if it'll cost more than one-hundred dollars.

At home Tim began in the shower. After that, wrapped in a towel in his room, he called Nate to tell him he would come in under budget. He'd no sooner finished talking to Nate than Mike entered. He sat on the edge of Tim's bed, asking, "Why does it feel better when you blow me than when a girl does it?"

"Because I know about more than just dicks. That night at the river, I learned you liked having your balls squeezed when you shoot."

"And you knew exactly how hard to squeeze them," Mike nodded, "but how did you know I'd want your finger shoved up there last night?"

Tim admitted that last night's penetration had been inspired by guesswork, albeit guesswork based on experience. "It's a seriously sensitive region," he said.

"Would it feel good without the blow job?" Mike asked.

Tim answered, "I'm willing to help you find out."

While Mike was taking his clothes off, Tim coated his finger with Beaver Balm. When Mike lay supine, Tim sat alongside him, inserted, and pressed on his gland. Though soft to begin with, Mike's cock responded by stiffening and within a few minutes by leaking. "I'll blow you again if you want," Tim said.

"Not just yet -- give me some lube and I'll do it to you."

Tim dropped his towel on his chair, then brought back the Beaver Balm along with the smaller of the two vibrating dildos that had come with his gift pack. No bigger around than a thumb, it slid into Mike as easily as Mike's middle finger slid up inside Tim.

Mike had never before asked for specifics about Tim's sessions with males; today he broke that tradition. "Whose dick's been in here?" When Tim confessed that he'd never been cornholed, Mike said, "Cool, I'll pull out if it hurts."

Tim left the dildo in Mike and pulled his brother atop him. He wrapped his legs around Mike and braced himself for the pain, but Mike's entry didn't hurt whatsoever. Still, Tim considered it wise to delay the fucking awhile. Looking up into Mike's eyes, he asked, "Did you jerk it last night after I popped you?"

"Twice," Mike answered, "while I was downloading porn and when I was taking a shower. Are you ready?"

Mike fucked Tim's ass the same way he'd fucked his girlfriends' pussies the times Tim had heard him. At home, the brothers' beds abutted a common wall that transmitted sound all too well. There as here, squeaking bedsprings traced Mike's progress from the first gentle thrusts to the eventual frenzied pounding he needed to orgasm. As expected, he continued to fuck though more slowly while he pumped out his load, then collapsed, gasping. When his breathing slowed down, he asked, "How are you going to pop."

"Stay where you are but raise up a little, and I'll jack myself off," Tim answered.

-- 14 --

(Brad fills a stein with Luebeck Pale, walks home on a warm April night, and sits on his couch.)

After April's Gay-Straight Alliance meeting the members had been invited to sample Brad's lager. The following Saturday night at The Beer Store, one of the men from the meeting came to where Brad was working and said,"Hi, my name's Gary -- where can I buy some of what you were serving last Wednesday?"

"We're running so low Sean didn't put it up on the chalkboard, but wait here a minute and I'll see what we've got."

In the cold room Brad poured one of the last eight bottles labeled Luebeck Pale into a stein. Back at the table he asked as he gave it to Gary, "Why hadn't I seen you at any of our meetings before?"

Gary explained that he'd transferred to Oregon State from Holt University at the start of the quarter. "I had a double major in business and ag," Gary said. "My counselor thought I should take Dr. Echols course before he retires."

Doctor Ken Echols taught Agricultural Financial Reporting and Analysis, a graduate-level class Brad would be taking next year provided he opted to remain in school. He asked, "Are you living on campus?"

"I'm staying at the Beaver Lodge temporarily until I can find an apartment," Gary answered. "Joe Dixon says I won't have any trouble once school gets out -- I'm working for him at his restaurant." Staying to talk while Brad worked, Gary asked if Brad was dating the girl he'd been with at the GSA meeting.

"Courtney's one of my best-ever friends," Brad replied, "but it's strictly platonic. Do you have a girlfriend down south?"

Reading between the lines of Gary's answers, Brad deduced his companion considered himself to be bi with a preference for males but that his experience had been limited. "I was totally in denial until I took Dr. Risdon's basic psychology course last year," he said.

Having finished all he'd planned to do Saturday night, Brad asked, "Want to swing by my place for a while? I'm only two blocks from the lodge."

The wintery weather had abated at least temporarily. Walking home without a jacket for the first time all year, Brad asked, "How did you meet Joe?"

"My TA in that basic psychology course I was mentioning graduated from Oregon State. When Joe was in LA, he introduced me." Passing the lodge, Gary said, "We have four guys to a room, so I'm looking forward to having a place of my own."

Brad asked, "Where do you go to beat off?"

"Sometimes in the shower, but even that isn't safe -- if one of my roommates needs to whiz, he walks in."

Gary couldn't have had any questions about where Brad went to beat off. At home Brad realized he'd left a bottle of Astroglide and a spooged washrag on the coffee table after watching a movie last night. Gary in the living room, Brad brought two beers from the kitchen, returning to find his visitor studying the box cover of 'Beach Blanket Buddies.'

Gary set down the cover, took a bottle, and said, "Thanks, I never drank anything except store beer before I moved to Corvallis." Gesturing toward the Astro, he said, "One of my roommates keeps a bottle of that in his dresser -- I've never used it myself."

Brad replied, "It isn't the best for a long, drawn-out session -- it dries out on a guy -- but if you plan to bust fast, it's the best. How long does a session ordinarily take you?"

Sitting at opposite ends of Brad's couch, the men compared their preferences regarding masturbation. Gary said that at home he liked to go slow, whereas at the lodge he did it as fast as he could. "Like I'll be studying and get myself close with my hand in my pocket so when I go in the bathroom I can pop myself in a couple of minutes."

Brad said, "Last night I did it fast since I had to get up early this morning, but one time during the week I lasted over an hour. I use Beaver Balm if I'm taking my time."

Gary opened the lid on the Astroglide, dripped a drop onto his forefinger, and rubbed his finger and thumb together. "That's a whole lot like pre-cum," he said.

"Let me put some on your dick," Brad suggested. "I guarantee you'll like how it feels."

"Okay, I'll put some on you too," Gary said.

After the men had taken their clothes off, Brad led the way into the bedroom, where they sat on the sheets, facing each other. Gary had brought the Astroglide; he greased Brad's hardon first, then handed over the bottle and said, "Be careful -- I haven't shot since last Wednesday."

"Don't worry about it," Brad said. "If you cum before I do, we'll rest for a while and do it again." Brad set the Astroglide on the nightstand, gripped Gary's rod, and stroked it, using the only grip he'd ever employed for mutual-M. Gary, however, did something Brad intended to add to his repertoire; after the upstroke he slid his thumb across Brad's cock-notch and sweet spot three or four times before beginning the downstroke. Impressed by the thrills Gary's technique produced, Brad asked, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"From my introductory psych study-partner," Gary answered. "Kev claimed to be straight, but he liked jacking me off."

After going so long without sex, Gary busted as fast as he'd feared. Not even five minutes into the session, he gasped, pressed his forehead against Brad's shoulder, and spewed, leaving Brad pelted with spooge. "That was fantastic," he said.

Wiping his hand on his thigh, Brad said, "Glad you enjoyed it -- stay here and I'll go get a towel."

Brad returned from the bathroom to see Gary stretched out on the bed. Brad sat beside him, dried his dick, and asked, "What else have you done besides two-way JO's?"

"Oral both ways," Gary answered. "Joe mentioned that you had a roommate last year. Wasn't that crowded?"

"That was the best part about it," Brad answered, explaining that two horndogs living together in such a small space had led to constant connections. Asked why Tim had moved out, Brad replied, "We both had other partners, and there was no place to hook up, plus his brother needed a roommate. Tell me about the first time you sucked dick."

"I wasn't sure I could do it." Gary and his study-partner, Kevin, had remained jack-buddies even after they'd finished the freshman-year course. The following summer Kevin had stopped by Gary's family's ranch on his way to Yosemite, and the friends had picked up where they'd left off in Los Angeles. "Fresno gets hot in July, but air conditioning dries out his sinuses, so I closed the vent and opened the window." Even though the men had masturbated before falling asleep, when Gary had left his bed on the way to the bathroom, he'd seen Kevin's dick stiff. "Like I just said, I wasn't positive I could suck it, but I wanted to try -- it wasn't a problem." Brad asked how Kevin had responded. Gary answered, "He went totally batshit. When he realized what was happening, he held my head and fucked my mouth till he shot."

Brad's first time sucking cock had been different from Gary's. "With me, I was younger for one thing -- it was the week I graduated from South Portland High School -- and my friend was awake. His bi brother had told him guys give head better than girls, and Jimmy wanted to see for himself."

"Did it bother you when he came in your mouth?"

"That was the part I liked best," Brad answered. "Sit on the edge of the bed -- I'll use my tongue on your sweet spot the way you were using your thumb."

-- 15 --

(Joe considers other ways to sell beer, eats with Bob Randolph, and serves a Beaver believer dark ale.)

As profitable as The Beer Store had been during its first two months in business, summer would arrive all too soon; when it did, Corvallis's student population would drop by three-quarters. Meeting with Joe on Tuesday, May 1, Josh said, "We need something to keep my partners busy from late June through September."

Joe replied, "If this year's like last, I'll be serving two kegs a night at the restaurant once I start discounting the pitchers, but that isn't nearly enough to keep even one of our brewers in town. Have you tried selling to the supermarkets like Randolph's?"

Josh answered, "Yeah, but those guys say we're out of their price range."

Joe opened his cell-phone and punched in Bob Randolph's number. When he answered, Joe asked, "Could you and your wife have dinner with me at the restaurant? I want to talk about beer."

"I can't make the first seating -- I have to cover the store until seven -- but I could meet you at eight."

"Make it seven-thirty, and I'll buy you a drink." Off the phone, Joe asked Josh, "If Bob gives us an order, how soon could we ship?"

"I'd guess about sixty days, assuming it's pilsner," Josh said, "but I'll talk to Brad before your meeting and let you know if I'm wrong."

After speaking with Josh, Joe walked to Heart of the Valley, checked in with Bert, and continued on to his apartment. Showering, he reflected that while Randolph's one Corvallis store couldn't sell enough beer to matter. the purchasing group to which they belonged certainly could.

Later that evening, Joe's dinner ended with Bob's agreement to distribute samples of Pilsen at the combine's next meeting. Bob had left, and Joe had gone to his office when Matthias joined him and said, "We aggregates manyest monies what you transports to die banks, ja?"

"Sure thing," Joe replied. "I'll stick it in the safe overnight and take it downtown in the morning."

"Also," Matthias said as he handed Joe a thick wad of bills, mostly fives, "Freund Gradish awaits you."

Joe hadn't expected to see Grady that night; he'd eaten dinner with his girlfriend and her parents in Albany. "Great," Joe replied, "send him in."

"Yes yes, for Gradish, he ist ein Biber believer such as meinself."

Matthias's remark referred to Grady's orange tee with BEAVER FEVER stencilled on the front. Joining Joe, he explained that Danya had decided to stay at her parents' house overnight, so he'd returned to Corvallis alone. "I was thinking you might want to hook up," he said.

"Absolutely," Joe answered.

Joe's aunt had returned to her cousin's, but Joe told everybody else in the kitchen goodnight before taking Grady downstairs. There, he opened two bottles of Sean's new dark ale, gave one to Grady, and gestured to the aerial map of Corvallis he'd hung on the wall, saying, "That's the one Skip found in the lockers." Grady asked what had happened to the collection of 'Playboy' magazines. "I put them in Josh's desk at The Beer Store. If nobody claims them by the end of the month, we'll auction them off." Noting Grady's bulge, Joe asked, "What kind of action are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing intense," Grady answered, "at least not the first time. Friday morning I almost fell asleep in my chemistry class. I took a nap in the quad after lunch."

Joe had never believed sex had to be wild to be good; he'd spent many memorable evenings doing little more than touching, exploring, talking. Adopting a favorite position, he sat sideways at one end of the couch, his legs spread apart; when Grady sat between them, leaning back, Joe asked, "How many times have you busted since you left here Friday morning?"

Grady had wrestled in Tucson over the weekend. "I couldn't do it down there, but I beat off a couple of times when I got home Sunday night. I'm afraid that's about it."

Joe tugged Grady's T-shirt free from his running shorts; a month ago he would have been wearing a sweat suit. His hand in the shirt, Joe traced the edges of Grady's abs, asking, "Where did you jerk it on Sunday?"

Grady's first time had been watching a porn in Tim's room; the second time had been in his own room before falling asleep,

Joe asked, "Did Tim offer to suck you?"

Grady shook his head, "No. Tim, his brother, and I were all flogging the dog. We'd bet a dollar apiece on who could last longest."

Joe slid his hand from Grady's stomach to his chest. Massaging the wrestler's right pec, he asked, "Who won the big bucks?"

Grady chuckled, "Mike. He'd got himself close, and as soon as he saw Tim's spooge spurt, he busted himself. I'd popped five minutes before them, but I hadn't shot in three days." Tugging the hair on Joe's shin, he asked, "Was The Beer Store busy last weekend?"

As the men discussed business, Joe slipped his hand into Grady's shorts and played with his cock; when Grady pushed the shorts down, Joe jacked him.

"Feeling good," Grady said. "How did you get off besides solo?"

"I did phone sex with a friend from New Jersey if that counts," Joe answered, "plus the new busboy wanted me to show him how the Hawaiians do Huli." Demonstrating, Joe flipped his hand upside down and tugged Grady's prick slightly sideways; had he launched, he would have splattered his thigh.

"I've done that too -- it works better with lube," Grady said.

Joe's experience over the past seven weeks told him Grady couldn't last too much longer. The telltale flush had appeared at the base of his neck, his breathing had deepened, and clear goo oozed through his piss-hole. Joe asked, "How about if I give you the blow job Tim didn't?"

"Awesome," said Grady. He got to his knees, turned around, put his hands on Joe's shoulders, and stuck his dick in Joe's mouth.

THE END