THE DEADHEADS OF NO HOPE by Rio Mack
DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay and bi sexuality.
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FIRST WEEKEND (Part 5)
Around three in the morning, utterly spent from cumming so much, they finally settled themselves in bed together. Wren spooned Remy from behind, worshipping his perfectly-carved body with her thin fingers, exulting in the feel of his firm, perfectly shaped muscles, and the way his skin was just a thin, smooth layer over all that rippling granite-hard power.
Unable to resist, she slid a hand down further, for probably the hundredth time that day, to play yet again with her favorite new toy -- fondling Remy's thick, meaty girth, stroking it softly, teasing it, letting the plum-sized balls play through her fingers. She fully acknowledged she was a devoted acolyte now, a priestess in the most gloriously sublime phallic cult, a worshipper of her hot young god's boy-cock, wanting only to serve its awesome power.
She lay there, slowly playing her fingers over Remy's muscular body and hefty cock, as he softly purred in drowsy pleasure.
Wren felt the stunned amazement of a Powerball winner. She has finally, actually, unbelievably, found happiness.
Four years ago, it had been the absolute worst. Worse than the worst. She'd survived somehow, healing as best she could, biding her time, keeping her shattered, pathetic dream alive somehow. Until today, when that faint, near-dead dream miraculously, gloriously, spectacularly revived in all its youthful splendor.
There are very few people, she knew, as unlucky as she was four years ago, and there are probably even fewer as lucky as she was now.
Remy had set his alarm for 7, so they could get up and make pancakes for Njeri. When it went off, he woke first and tried kissing his still-sleeping lover awake.
"C'mon, Bird, I wanna walk to Tower Grocery to get some buttermilk for the pancakes and a some fresh fruit."
Wren refused to stir. She just groaned a drowsy plea.
"Oh, Remy, let's go back to sleep. We can just order out or something."
Remy had morning wood, so he played his hard cock back and forth across Wren's mouth. Her tongue poked out like a reflex reaction to lick as much of it as she could. Soon her lips formed a smile, and she opened one eye.
"OK, my supremely hard Lord, I'm up. Just like your dick."
They dressed quickly. Remy wore faded jeans (commando), his Stussy crown T, and shell-toe sneakers (no socks). Wren slipped into the wife-beater of Remy's she wore last night, her jean jacket, leather skirt (no underwear), Packers cap, and another pair of crazy-striped knee socks to wear with her Doc Martens.
On the walk to Tower, they passed Wren's house, but she decided not to knock and say hi because Marlo and Dexter slept late on the weekends. They had a lovely walk along the quiet, tree-lined sidewalks, passing only a couple of early morning dog walkers, laughing and kissing and holding hands as they re-hashed the sexual highlights of the previous evening.
At one point, though, Remy felt he had to get serious. There was something he needed to get absolutely certain.
"So, Wren, seriously -- you're like my girlfriend, right? I mean, we're like official boyfriend and girlfriend, yes? Like we can tell our friends? Your aunt and uncle, Ava?"
"Yes yes yes! Forever, my eternal Lord. Is that OK?"
He stopped their walking, held her gently, and kissed her. Then he pulled her tight and really kissed her.
"Forever and ever. You're so amazing, Wren. I'm the luckiest dude who ever lived. But really, though, are you sure? Because I don't really feel like I'm quite on your level. Plus, all the boys I'll still be fucking."
She laughed, her eyes all merry and twinkling.
"Don't be a dope, Remy Lord. I'm sort of `sure' by definition -- I mean, after all, I SUMMONED you. But I do want you to be sure, Remy, that you want ME forever. I mean, I think I can still undo things, before it gets totally forever, but I suspect it would have to be soon."
Remy had no idea what she was talking about. Wren said these intense, random things a lot -- it was part of her specialness. All Remy knew was that she kept saying "forever," which was exactly what Remy wanted to hear.
Red, the hands-on proprietor of their cozy neighborhood grocery, was happy to see Remy. It was the day after moving into their new house, this past summer, that Remy had first gone to Tower Grocery. He'd searched on his phone for grocery stores near his home, and was excited to see there was one located just blocks away, which had lots of positive customer reviews.
Remy fell in love with the small store on that first visit. It was stocked exactly the way he would have stocked his own small store -- excellent produce, a great butcher/fish-monger, and on the shelves, a solid mix of basics and specialty items.
That first day in the store, as he'd paid for his purchases, he introduced himself to the cashier (who had also been the man behind the butcher counter), telling the dude how much he loved the store, adding that he and his mother had just moved into the neighborhood, and since he did all the cooking at home, they'd be seeing him a lot from now on.
The cashier, named Red (who turned out to be the owner), beamed upon hearing a young'un like Remy rave about his store. The two had greeted each other like old friends ever since.
Remy stopped in at least three times a week to do the marketing for Ava and him. Oftentimes on a shopping trip, he'd excitedly tell Red what he did with those asparagus or leeks or that walleye he bought last time -- describing, in great detail, the dish he'd made, every step and ingredient in his prep, getting youthfully rapturous over how delicious it was.
Red especially welcomed those excited gourmet re-caps from Remy when the store was crowded, and the boy went on and on about the scrumptious-sounding feasts he'd made. Red believed a stunningly handsome, charmingly effusive young boy in his shop, waxing in the most succulent of terms about his culinary triumphs using the produce and fish or meat he'd bought at Red's store, was the best in-store advertising possible.
Often, he noticed, ringing up someone's purchases, many customers decided to buy those very ingredients Remy had gone into gastronomic paroxysms over.
Remy introduced Wren to Red as his girlfriend that morning. Red told Wren how much he liked Remy. Wren could tell immediately Red was gay and had a serious thing for Remy. It was so sweet, she thought -- just like Ollie, at the record store next door, another of Prospect Park's gorgeous, hard-bodied, shopkeeper daddies with a crush on her boy!
Wren wondered whether Remy knew Red was into him. He must -- it was droolingly obvious. Was Remy into Red, she wondered? Have they slept together? Is that what dudes into dudes did, pick up on clues and become fuck-buddies? Was Remy into inter-generational?
Boys were utterly, endlessly fascinating, she decided.
Red's eyes glinted as he talked about how much he looked forward to Remy stopping in the store.
"Don't let him get away, Wren! Remy's an amazing cook!"
Wren beamed.
"I know, Red! We had dinner last night with Remy's mom and Pastor Sin. Remy made spanakopita! It was incredible!"
Remy told Red it was in large part thanks to the fantastic frozen phyllo dough Red stocked, along with some French feta Ava was into, which she bought at a wine-and-cheese store in St. Paul. Red immediately wanted to know about the feta, so he could stock it, too. Remy couldn't remember but promised to text a photo of the label to the "Tower Grocery" number he had in his contacts.
Then the young lovers hurried off, holding hands, to do their shopping.
From the dairy case, Remy grabbed a container of lemon yogurt and a quart of a local, small-farm buttermilk Red sold. They headed to the produce section to see what looked good.
"How are these raspberries, Red?"
"Superb, Remy! Just in this morning. Like sugar."
Remy bought two pints of raspberries (one to give Wren to take home to Marlo and Dexter, if they really were as good as Red said), as well as a pint of wild blueberries Red had also gotten in that morning. He was thinking blueberry pancakes with rasperries and syrup, and a couple dollops of lemon yogurt on the side.
The teens were home a little before 8. After Remy remembered to text Red a photo of the feta cheese container, he and Wren stripped, tossing their clothes onto one of the living room sofas.
In the kitchen, Remy set a chunk of butter in a small saucepan to melt, then rounded up pancake ingredients. Wren put water on for coffee, then kissed and hugged and worshipped Remy's beautiful body while he mixed the batter.
Njeri arrived right on time. She laughed to see Wren and Remy naked, but Remy quickly did his canned speech about growing up with a mother who had a strong belief in naturism.
Njeri happily stripped off the little she was wearing -- booty shorts (no underwear), tight wife-beater (no bra), and flip-flops -- and the three teens continued working on breakfast.
Remy had both a cast iron skillet and a grill pan heating, so he could do two pancakes at a time, believing huge, plate-sized pancakes were best. The girls loved watching Chef Remy at his stove -- an old Viking range that came with the house, on which Remy loved to cook. The naughty vixens continually tried to throw Remy off his game while he worked, teasing his cock and ass and nipples.
When the girls finally realized they could never distract Remy enough to stop him from making perfect pancakes, Wren washed some blueberries and raspberries, and Njeri got maple syrup and lemon yogurt from the fridge, then the girls made coffee while Remy made cakes.
Remy loved the feeling of his hardness, rising and flooding through him. as he watched the two perfect young nymphs -- one ivory white, the other mocha-dark -- glide naked around his kitchen.
Remy figured six of his extra-large pancakes would be enough. Wren and Njeri set the table, Remy set out plates of cakes and dishes of fruit and yogurt, and the three teens had a delightfully animated breakfast, each young beauty unable to take their eyes off the other two naked lovelies.
The girls teased Remy because he took three huge, plate-sized pancakes, but once Wren and Njeri sampled theirs, they gobbled them right up, split the last remaining cake, and each begged for more. Remy cut a deal with them, quickly agreed to, that he'd make them each another pancake if they gave him a handjob while he made it.
Remy stood at the stove, in ecstasy, watching the pancakes cook as the girls jacked his cock and worshipped his muscle and fingered his hole, all the while with a finger in each girl's cunt.
Everyone was sad when Remy announced the cakes were done, but the buttermilk deliciousness of Remy's light, fluffy cakes, and that wonderful crispy-brown edge he got on his cakes, more than compensated for the girls' loss
"Remy, these pancakes are amazing! The most insanely scrumptious pancakes I've ever eaten!"
Njeri seconded Wren's praise.
"They gold, Rem."
"Thank you, ladies. Pancakes are one of my favorite things to eat, so I worked hard to figure out a great recipe."
Wren half-swooned, half-pleaded.
"Please please please make just one more for Jeri and I to split! My God, Remy! I am begging you to make pancakes once a week for me."
Remy laughed and headed back into the kitchen to make another cake, deciding he'd just use up the rest of the batter and leave a few pancakes for Ava and Sin to heat up when they came down for breakfast.
While he cooked, Wren and Njeri cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher. Then, cakes done, and more fruit washed for Ava and Sin, the three horny youths headed upstairs.
Their sex was superb. Njeri, Remy thought, was gorgeous. She had a thick, dense, wildly overgrown mane of natural hair, which at first looked uncared-for, like she'd been living like some feral girl, off in the wild, but yet which always ultimately managed to look like the sexiest, most perfectly coiffed style imaginable.
Njeri's jade eyes almost always had a bright, sly, seductive gleam to them, and her full, thick lips were glorious. She kept her lips covered in the same sort of dark, glossy lipstick that Wren did, Jeri's shade being a deep, dark, purple-lilac -- the glossy metallic sheen made her swollen lips doubly sensuous.
Njeri's body was beyond seductive. She had dark-brown skin, all rich and buttery smooth, with breasts a tad bigger than Wren's, but not by much. Remy had once thought, during the first week of school, when he'd get hard and mesmerized, watching Njeri's breasts under one of the boy's wife-beater s she awlays wore, that Njeri had grapefruit-sized tits.
Seeing them bared now, Remy realized they weren't quite that big -- more the size of a ripe, luscious peach, with small, tasty-looking, dark-chocolate nipples on quarter-sized areoles.
Her pussy was stunning -- shaved-smooth, with large, thick, dark chocolate lips enfolding her pink gash.
Remy loved watching the two girls together as they romped on his mattress. The contrast in skin tones as the two girls sixty-nined was dick-hardening.
Remy perched on a corner of his floor mattress, back against the wall, stroking himself as the girls almost seemed to perform for him -- kissing, fondling their tits, scissoring, and sixty-nining.
Remy was hard for every second of their Sapphic play. After just watching, he shyly tried to fit himself in, wherever he could. Mostly he'd just fondle one or both of the girls' tits because he didn't want to interrupt their fiercely determined pussy-play.
When the girls' desire for each other was spent, Wren turned Njeri over to Remy, whose mouth drooled to eat the gorgeous girl out. He'd already seen, from watching Wren's j/o video of Njeri last night, how the black girl's labia were bigger, fatter, more pronounced, more succulent than Wren's, so Remy thrilled at the chance to worship them now.
He teased them -- pulling, nipping, licking them fiendishly, biting even -- while Wren stimulated her girlfriend's clit. Njeri, after cumming, shifted her body around so she could get at Remy's huge, straining hardness.
After maybe five minutes of seriously good cock-sucking -- during which Wren worshipped Remy's upper body while she teased his hole -- Njeri came up for air.
"You a damn stud, Remy Lord. Biggest damn dick I ever seen on a white-boy. My baby girl finally get with a boy, and he the hottest-looking white boy ever. You did good, honey!"
Wren beamed at Njeri's praise.
"I know, Jer! I positively worship my Lord. This big-ass dick gets so damn hard and thick and long! And he stays hard for-fucking-ever! You two look so damn hot together!"
The two girls kissed each other with Remy's thick, jutting shaft between their lips, Njeri's fingers playing with the boy's nut-sac and Wren's teasing his hole.
Finally, Njeri could wait no longer -- so, juicy wet, she straddled Remy, with her back to him, while Wren eased Remy's cock into the black girl's pussy.
It was Remy's first time fucking a girl, and he absolutely loved it. A pussy wasn't nearly as tight as a boy's hole, but it still kept him hard as fuck, especially when Njeri was so crazy into pleasuring herself on his long, thick, straining-hard shaft while Wren did all sorts of sexy play with her.
The sight of the insanely gorgeous black nymph riding him, working her smooth brown hips over him, while a white naiad kissed her and fondled her breasts and teased her clit, was mind-blowing. Yet another chapter, Remy laughed to himself, in that ongoing saga, MY SEX-LIFE WITH WREN, or A GAY BOY'S ASTONISHING EDUCATION.
Njeri flipped around, so she could gaze on white-boy muscle while she rode him. That meant Wren could slide her own cunt onto Remy's mouth, so her boy could eat her out, while she kissed Njeri and fondled her breasts as her girlfriend rode her boy.
After about five minutes of m/f/f threesome bliss, Remy cried out he was going to cum. Njeri said she wanted to feel his load. She shrieked breathlessly as he exploded into her.
Afterwards, Wren and Remy took turns cleaning the black girl's pussy.
Remy lay back, body spent and mind blown, while Njeri and Wren played with his cock and kissed each other.
Wren hopped up off the floor mattress, wanting to give the other two some time alone together.
"Isn't Njeri the most beautiful girl you've ever seen, Remy?"
"Actually, Wren, I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I'd say Njeri's the most beautiful girl I've never seen."
"Ooh, Paul Westerberg reference for the win, Remy Lord."
Wren excused herself to go make them more coffee and visit with Ava and Sin (who they'd heard stirring during their sex-romp). The blonde pixie gave them a twinkly, knowing smile before she left.
"Don't be shy, you two! I want you to really get to know each other while I'm gone!"
Wren found Ava alone at the kitchen table, nude, drinking coffee and reading a news-feed on her laptop. They hugged good morning. Ava thanked Wren for the pancakes and fruit and invited the girl to sit down.
She told Wren she was happy for the company, as Sin had left to prepare her sermon for today's service, so Wren poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down across from Remy's mother. Wren absolutely loved being naked around a house now, amidst other naked beauties.
Wren let Ava know her girlfriend was over, and that she'd left the two of them alone, to get to know each other better, while she came down for coffee. Ava shook her head in amazement.
"I never, ever saw this coming, Wren! Truthfully, I never thought Remy would EVER be with a girl! Totally not on my bingo card, that ship had sailed, the barn door had closed -- whatever metaphor you choose. Then to come home yesterday and find him with such a beautiful girl! And the two of you having such raucous sex all night!"
Wren blushed. Ava laughed.
"Sin and I heard you two going at it until we fell asleep. We thought it was hilarious! Absoutely adorable! And now you tell me he's with another girl upstairs! Forgive me, angel, but it's going to take me a little getting used to!"
She patted Wren's hand across the table, lovingly.
"And it's obvious, you're absolutely perfect for him, Wren. At dinner last night, it was like seeing my adorable, goofy, silly, funny, happy twelve-year-old boy. Which i haven't seen in a long time."
"Thanks, Ava. And yeah, that's one of the things I love most about Remy -- he's so grown-up and mature most of the time, but so often he's still just a little boy. Silly -- goofy, like you say -- and trying to be a such a he-man! His bookshelf is filled with all those ultra-macho boy-books of his -- spy novels and comic book super-heroes and naked muscle men! It's so cute!"
Ava smiled indulgently and nodded her head.
"It's like he's stuck at the age where little boys realize what their dicks can do and they get totally obsessed with them! Their own and other boys'!"
"Exactly! I love how he's so beautifully, fiercely gay! Sooooo into hot boys and cock! I'm so into hot boys and cock, too, so it's absolutely perfect! Boys are just too beautiful, I think, for boys not to be gay."
"You're adorable, Wren. I've never met a girl like you. And Remy clearly seems good for you, too -- if I can say that. You glow with love for him. It's lovely watching the two of you together -- you can't fake that sort of adoration. I don't even need you to promise me you won't hurt my boy because you couldn't possibly."
"My number one goal, Ava, is to see that nothing or nobody hurts Remy. Which brings me to the subject of his dad, who I'm seriously worried about. Remy told us in English class a little about his father. He sounds absolutely horrible! Have you heard from him? Do you expect to?"
"No, we haven't heard a peep. I really don't expect to, honestly. He knows what he did and why we left him. I've got a lawyer now who's making sure it will all be over soon. But how much do you know about Remy's dad, Wren? What's he told you?"
"Not a whole lot. Just that he beat Remy and you, and was a racist, homophobic bastard. And a crazy, violent cop."
"That about sums it up. Do you want to know more?"
"Of course! I want to know everything about Remy."
So Ava closed her laptop and told Wren her -- and Remy's -- story.
Ava had married young (at 17) and stayed with her husband too long, that was the real problem. She should have left him that very first time he got drunk and slapped her around. Easy enough call in hindsight, of course, but the next day's tearful apology seemed heartfelt, she thought -- adding, with a painfully wry smile, that the make-up sex afterwards, like almost all their sex at the start, was just too satisfying.
Remy's father, she told Wren, had a strong, beautifully defined body, much like Remy's, and a seriously big dick (again, like father, like son).
Plus, she'd always felt a son needed his father -- a tragically mistaken belief for which she'd since apologized to Remy many, many times.
Indeed, though, Remy grew up idolizing his father -- a cop who seemed larger than life and bravely heroic to a young boy. Remy started running and exercising with Larry at age 11 because he lived to please his dad. And all the Packers games they watched together! As quickly as Remy became addicted to the NFL, he was drawn to football initially because it was a way of being with his dad.
As the years passed, though, and Remy came into his own, the young hero-worshipping son began realizing there wasn't all that much about his father to admire.
At first, Ava said, it was the racist cracks. They lived in a mostly black neighborhood in Milwaukee (the department policy was that police officers had to live where they worked), and Larry's rants about the majority non-white population revealed a brutal stupidity that surprised both mother and son.
Ava smiled wistfully to Wren, recounting how often Remy would push back against Larry's toxic views, trying to reason with his dad at first -- citing statistics showing disparities in income levels and education and housing, which he'd learned in his middle-school government course, as well as the anecdotal evidence of all the wonderful black friends he had -- even though he could guess in advance Larry's furious, ugly, irrational response. Remy didn't want to think of his father as just another racist POS, but there it was.
And then, Ava sighed, came the homophobia. When Remy was 12, his father started making snide comments, wondering why Remy showed no interest in girls, preferring the company of boys. Such cracks occurred almost daily after Remy turned 14.
Ava's wistfulness turned angry as she told Wren how she tried to deal with her husband's demeaning treatment of their son.
"Remy could tell it infuriated me. I had an argument with Larry one night, late, when we thought Remy was asleep, demanding that he knock it off and let Remy be. 'Be damned if I'm raising a faggot!' the fucker told me. Can you imagine? It sickened me, even worse than the times he beat me, because this was my boy! Remy! My wonderful, beautiful, kind, talented son!"
Wren smiled and took Ava's hand across the table.
"Remy's amazing!"
Ava smiled, too. She half-stood up and leaned across the table, hugging Wren, her firm breasts pressing against the girl's, and gave her a sweet kiss of gratitude. Then she sat back and continued her sad tale.
"Remy came to me the next morning, after Larry left for work, crying. He'd heard every disgusting word his father had said. I'd never seen him so depressed. Oh, Wren! I started thinking, is my boy going to be one of those sad gay teens who kill themselves? I worried myself sick over it. Oh, those were such awful days!"
Ava told her of another terrible time, when they'd celebrated Larry's birthday, she and her son still fooling themselves they could somehow make their family work, make Larry understand. One of Remy's gifts to his father that year -- "Oh, he was so damn proud of it, Wren!" -- was working for hours to make and frost and decorate a chocolate cake for Larry's birthday desert.
It was probably the best damn cake she'd ever tasted, Ava said, but Larry couldn't resist a crude sneer, about it being women's work to bake. The cake, as moist and delicious as it was, turned to dry, bitter mush in Ava's mouth as she chewed it, thinking of the pain Remy was feeling, even though her boy had tried valiantly to keep from crying. Ava tried reasoning with Larry, telling him that many of the best chefs have always been men, but neither Ava nor Remy had yet gauged the true depth of her husband's virulent homophobia.
There were more slaps to Ava over the next two years -- one so hard she fell and banged her head against a window sill, which terrified Remy; and once, the `slap' was really a backhanded punch, which gave her a black eye.
The slaps evolved into flat-out beatings, twice serious enough that she needed emergency care. Those were the worst nights for Ava and Remy -- Ava's bruises, the tearful drives to the ER, Remy freaking out, the worried waiting, the rage her boy felt.
Remy wanted to retaliate after the second trip to Urgent Care, but Ava begged him not to. She was still focused on keeping whatever was left of their life together, hoping for a change. By then, though, as she'd told Remy (because Ava told him every confidence by then), she'd started refusing sex with her husband, out of her disgust for the way he treated their son.
"Remy understood, from all our talks, especially the reminiscences about all my ex-boyfriends, that I was a very sexual person, who couldn't go without sex too long."
Ava gave a sad laugh, then smiled as she told Wren how she drifted into a wonderful affair with a student teacher at her school, a gorgeous young black lesbian college girl. It was her first relationship with another woman, Ava rapturously confessed, adding she knew it wouldn't be her last, the sex was that amazing.
Again, Wren smiled brightly.
"I love getting with girls! Njeri, upstairs, is my best girlfriend!"
"Kids today have the right idea about sex -- love whoever makes you feel wonderful. So much healthier than how I grew up."
She continued her tale, telling Wren how obsessive she became about keeping her affair a secret from her husband. More out of concern for Tamara, her young lover, than herself.
By that time, Remy had long since withdrawn from his father as much as he could, heart-broken that he'd lost his idol, spending as much time as possible away from the house, with his friends. When he was home, if he wasn't making dinner, he either worked in the yard or stayed in his room, devoting himself to his passion, his art.
Wren's tear-blurred eyes lighted up hearing about Remy's art.
"Remy's an amazing artist! Seriously brilliant. Before I leave today, I have to show you the sketch he did of me last night!"
Ava nodded and smiled, telling her about all the portraits he drew -- excellent, she thought -- of the boys he hung around with at middle school, either sketched from life or from photographs he took of them. By that time, Ava added, he'd been having sex for a couple of years with black boys he'd befriended at school or met at parties, and had begun doing beautiful nude portraits of the boys with whom he was intimate. Ava loved those drawings the best.
"He was a little embarrassed, at first, to show me his favorites, the ones he spent the most time on, but it wasn't as if I needed to see them to understand the passion underlying his art. He came out to me at fifteen, but I told him I'd known long before that. And his nudes of boys -- they're just so well done!"
Wren nodded and told her they were stunning, and how it was brilliant Ave had them framed and hanging all over the house.
Ava nodded. She stared down at the table for a few seconds, then continued her story.
It was when Larry decided to take a look through one of Remy's sketchbooks one day, to see what his son was wasting all his time on -- and saw all the pictures of boys, naked or near-naked -- that the tide really turned.
Larry erupted, screaming again how "no way he was gonna raise no queer" and how Remy had to stop "all the faggot shit with those n-word boys" or else.
Ava looked distraught as she described how Larry, shockingly, took a hunting knife and slashed most of the drawings in that sketch book.
Wren eye-rolled.
"Paging Dr. Freud!"
Ava said she kept screaming at him to stop (not daring to try to wrest the knife from him). Remy, she said, was almost too sad to be angry.
Ava told Remy that night that they couldn't go on like this, and, indeed, they didn't.
Larry came home early from the precinct one afternoon -- something about shift re-assignment. Ava was still at work. When she got home, she found her husband drunk and railing, and Remy locked in his room. She knocked on Remy's door, worried. Remy didn't want to let her in at first, he was crying and ashamed.
Finally, though, he opened the door for her, and she saw him. She told Wren she couldn't describe to her the horrible shock -- the anger, the pity, the disbelief, the hatred, the helpless -- when she saw her beautiful boy. His right eye was swollen, and he had these really ugly purple bruises on his upper body from being pummeled by Larry's strong hands. Huge welts, too, on his buttocks, from being kicked a few times by heavy cop shoes.
Sobbing, Remy told her how Larry had come home unexpectedly and found him and a black boy from school naked together. Remy had lunged at his dad, knocking him over, so his friend could grab his clothes and escape unharmed, but then he had to face his father's fury.
Ava screamed at Larry after seeing the damage to her boy, and tried to hit him with the same sort of fury he hit their son, but that only got her another beating.
She said nothing for the next few days, but it turned out she was quietly scheming their long-overdue escape, scanning the internet for jobs in other cities. She told Remy her plan, and he was overjoyed. The two of them had been depressed for years, she realized, and suddenly there was hope.
Ava laughed.
"`Hope,' literally -- the job at Hope Academy!"
Ava had found the job soon after she'd started looking, parlaying all her experience as an administrator in the Milwaukee Public Schools into the position as the Assistant Principal/Director of Curriculum at Hope Academy in Minneapolis. She was thrilled, not just to have a ticket out of their hell-life, but to have found such a dream job.
The way Ava described the progressive school to Remy sounded just fine to him, she said, adding that he'd have been happy with any school -- all he cared about was getting away from his dad.
"Remy loved his father, Wren, with all his heart, until he couldn't any more. Watching his mother get beaten by a mean drunk for years, listening to racist bullshit about your best friends, while being the brunt of the fucker's homophobic slurs -- that can curdle a son's love really fast. Getting the shit beat out of you by the bastard will dry it up completely."
Ava told Larry nothing about her plans. She waited until the start of this past summer, when he'd be gone for a week, to Menomenie, for some police 'tactical training' conference.
"Just an excuse for him and his cop buddies to get drunk and fuck whores!"
Mother and son waited for an hour after he left, until they were certain he was really gone, then she and Remy packed up the little they wanted to take from their awful, failed life, and loaded it into her car (which was fortunately in her name). Ava left a letter behind for Larry, telling him they were leaving for good and why.
The letter included copies of all her and her son's medical bills from their ER visits, explaining that if he tried to follow them, she would press charges and call the various doctors who'd examined her and Remy, each of whom had given her paperwork certifying that the bruises they treated were the result of beatings. As soon as she was established, she wrote, she'd file divorce papers and send them on to him. She wanted no alimony, no child support, just a fresh start for her and Remy.
Ava had wisely put all her salary from her Milwaukee job, along with the little bit of money she'd received from her late mother's estate, into a separate account, so she and Remy were fairly OK financially.
"I saw my lawyer last week, and she's drawing up the papers now."
Wren sat there, not sobbing, but with tears streaming down her face. Her turn to reach across the table and hug Ava for a long moment.
Ava smiled, trying to shake off the sad pall.
"Thanks, Wren, but we're fine now, really! Excellent, in fact -- we're both flourishing on our own. And soon, I hope, it'll all be officially over. What happened to Remy and I shouldn't happen to any one."
Wren laughed hollowly to herself at that last comment from Ava.
Wren's half-blank gaze stared past Remy's mother now, through the kitchen window, where she noticed a small chickadee hopping around on one of the high retaining walls enclosing the tiny patio space in back of Remy's house.
So many small, happy creatures in nature, Wren thought, wondering why all the creatures in the world couldn't just be left alone, to hop around to their heart's content. This was another thing she and Remy had in common -- they'd been unhappy creatures for far too long.
Ava could see the numbed sadness in Wren's eyes, moved by their tale of woe, no doubt. Remy's found himself such a good girl, Ava thought to herself -- so empathetic for her boyfriend and his mother. She gave Wren another hug and a light kiss on her cheek, wanting to reassure her.
"Really, Wren, don't be sad! Look how happy Remy and I are now! It's been just another day in paradise here, him and I, alone together, fixing up the house this summer. Don't waste tears on us -- we did it, honey! We've finally got our wonderful new life! And our wonderful new girlfriends!"
Wren finally met Ava's gaze and managed her bravest attempt at a smile.
"I know, Ava. And that's seriously wonderful. I was just thinking, though, back there when you said that what happened to you and Remy shouldn't happen to anybody. It's crazy, `cause that's the exact same phrase my Uncle Dexter used to say about me, all the time, the past four years."
Ava's face tightened into concern.
"Why, Wren? What happened to you? I know from your file you live with relatives. Did you lose your parents? That must have been terribly hard."
The tears started welling again.
"Oh yeah, `terribly hard' all right. No doubt."
She stayed silent. Another look off into the backyard. The chickadee was still there -- searching for bugs probably.
Wren marveled at how purely happy she was here, right here, in this wonderful house, with this wonderful woman, and the boy upstairs she was going to live with for the rest of her life -- who was up there right now, in his insanely wonderful bedroom, getting to know her gorgeous girlfriend.
What a wonderful life she'd managed to have, despite everything. A life made utterly perfect and perfectly dreamy by finding her soul-mate.
For such a long time, though, Wren never thought she would ever be happy again, but now she knew that no one could ever possibly be happier than she was. She bet she could teach that little chicadee a thing or two about hopping.
Still, it didn't seem right, somehow, for her to be happy. It didn't even seem possible, after what happened. She turned back to give a weak smile to Remy's mother.
"So, what happened to me? How I lost my mother? My dear, darling Anne? I'd like to tell you, Ava. I'd like you to know. You need to know, I guess. But please, Ava."
And now the tears started streaming.
"Don't tell Remy yet, OK? Please please please? Let me tell him -- I mean, I have to, obviously -- but not just yet, not when everything's so new and exciting and wonderful with us. Promise me, OK? Let us have just a little more dreamy-time for a while. I'll know the right time to tell him, don't worry. It'll be soon. I'll tell you now, though, because of course you have to know about me."
First, though, another glance out back. She loved Remy's tiny, walled-in back patio. Such a small, lovely, perfect space -- enclosed, private, safe.
Another bird had joined the first. The chickadee's mate, she figured, which Wren thought was lovely. Birds mate for life, don't they? Like Remy and her.
"OK -- so, my mom, Anne. She was so beautiful, Ava. So vivacious, so kind, so smart, so loving, so strong, so sweet. I wish you could have seen her, known her. You two would have been the best of friends, I just know it. God, she was so cool! So full of life!
"Anyway, my mom always had boyfriends -- from what you said, she was like you that way, I guess. I never knew my dad. Just another one of her endless lovers. He must have been a jerk or something because she never talked about him. That was my mom's only problem -- she was attracted to jerks."
Ava laughed.
"Me and her both!"
That would be Ava's last laugh for a while.
Wren tried to smile, too, but she couldn't.
"Yeah -- anyway, it was when I was thirteen. We'd been living up north, my mom and I, ever since I can remember. Anne owned an art gallery she ran on the North Shore. At the time it all happened, she was involved with one of her many creepy boyfriends. This one was the worst, of course, the absolute worst."
A harsh sob ripped through her like a hiccup, and her voice rose.
"Oh, Anne, why the fuck did you have to be attracted to him?"
She swallowed hard and focused. Then she took a breath and continued.
"As bad as my daddy must have been, this one was way worse. The worst. As horrible as you can get. Kind of like your Larry, maybe.
"It sounds obvious to say in retrospect, but I swear I never liked the fucker. He was a logger up there. And handsome, I guess. I mean, that was what my mom saw in him, of course. I also always thought he was like a drug dealer or into crime or something like that. Just gave off all these intensely 'bad-dude' vibes."
Aw jeez, Wren wondered, can I really tell this? Yes, Wren, you can. Just keep talking. Just get it over with. If you tell it now, to Ava, it'll be easier when you have to tell Remy. And it's right that Ava should know.
"She and this fucker hadn't really been dating much, actually. When they did, they'd mostly meet at his place, cause of me and all. But I didn't mind staying home alone. Not at all. I loved our house, and the North Shore always felt small-town safe to me, you know? 'Safe'! Jeez!
"The few times when she and that fucking asshole did meet at our house, I just stayed in my room as much as possible. I'd draw or read and listen to music. I seriously didn't like the guy, didn't like being around him. I hated even thinking about him and my mom together.
"Plus, he always had a weird look on his face when he looked at me, that was the other thing. I couldn't understand it. Creeped me way out. I thought, why does this dude hate me? I mean, I never even really talked to him much. God, I was so stupid! Oh well.
"OK, so here it is -- this one day my mom's at work. It was a Friday night. She'd told me she was gonna be late that day, that a new show was opening at the gallery on Saturday, and there'd be so much to do, so I should just order pizza. Which I loved. Sven and Oly's! The best!
"But before I call for the pizza there's a knock at the door, and it's the dude. Graham was his name. Fucking `Graham' -- Jesus! And so I say, mom's not back yet, she's at the gallery, you should go there. I know, he says, but she told me she'd meet me here. And immediately I know he's drunk. I mean, I can smell it. He reeked. But I didn't even have to smell it, I could just tell. His voice.
"But I was so fucking stupid! I figured if my mom said she'd meet him here, it must be OK. Fucking liar. Fucking lying fuck. So I say OK, c'mon in, I guess, even though I was nervous as hell. Turns out I was right to be scared."
Ava's face had gone slack and chalky.
"Oh, Wren, no! He didn't!"
"Oh yes, Ava, he did."
Ava was weeping now, quietly. She got up and moved onto the back bench, next to Wren and just held her and wept for a while.
This girl is so beautiful, Ava said to herself, so sweet, how could anybody do even the slightest bad thing to her?
Wren went on, half-zombie now.
"So, at first, I'm messing with my phone, sitting in the other room, figuring out what I want on the pizza, and he comes in, and it's all 'You know, honey, you're a cute little thing,' and 'Bet you got a bunch of boyfriends,' and -- ."
"Oh, Wren. Oh, Wren, I'm so so sorry."
"Yeah, of course. So it starts with brushing my hair away from my face and 'How about a little kiss for your Uncle Graham?' and `You gonna show me how you kiss your boyfriend?' and 'Wanna see how I kiss your momma?'"
"Oh my God, Wren!"
"And I'm like 'No no no no no! Get away from me! Gross! I'll tell! Get away from me!' But he's way strong and way drunk, and I'm crying and screaming and scratching, and he's fucking got my clothes ripped off so fucking fast I didn't even realize he was doing it."
"Oh Wren! No!"
"And we're both down on the kitchen floor now, and his pants are pulled down, and his dick is huge and hard, and he's fingering me, and it hurt SO DAMN BAD, Ava! And I'm screaming and thinking I'm probably also going to be killed afterwards. And soon he's in me and pumping away, and it just hurt so much! I can't even tell you the pain. But I couldn't do a damn thing. I just felt like some weak piece of nothing."
Ava's eyes were pressed shut as she softly wept.
"But thank God! At least he didn't cum in me, right? He pulled out and came all over my face, laughing and laughing, and then it's 'Let's go again, honey. Fuck, are you ever cute! Clean me off and get me hard and we can go again. Betcha liked that, didn't you? Don't say you didn't!'
"And I'm just a weepy mess. All screamed out by this time. Suddenly there's this big cock in my mouth, and I just want to bite it, but I figured he'd probably beat the shit out of me if I did, so I sort of sob and half-ass suck it, and Jesus, I just wanted it over. I just wanted him gone, and for life to go back to what it was twenty minutes before. But good luck with that, right?"
"Oh, Wren."
"Save your tears, Ava. It gets way worse."
"Oh my God!"
"So I'm sucking, and he's getting hard. His hands are all rough on my breasts. And that's when the door opens, and it's my mother, and if you think I was screaming earlier? She flies at Graham and starts hitting and slapping his face, and now he's screaming, and he hits her so hard, she flies back and lands on the floor, and I'm screaming 'Momma, momma, no no no!'"
Wren stopped for a moment. Maybe if she didn't tell this part, it wouldn't happen? She went on.
"And then the fucker pulls a fucking gun from the pocket of the jacket he was still wearing. This sort of blue, satiny bowling jacket he always wore, with `North Shore Lanes' in white-thread script letters on the back. Weird the things you can remember.
"Anyway, of course the evil fucker has a gun, and my mother just lunges at the gun hand, and they struggle, and it goes off a few times -- I don't know, two or three, I was just crazy-insane then -- and Graham has this 'What the fuck?' look on his face, and I look down and his blue satiny jacket has this dark purple blotch and there's blood everywhere."
Wren became more animated.
"But then, the fucker doesn't fall down dead like he's supposed to! Instead, he's still holding the gun, and since the fucker's not dead, he shoots my mother. The fucker couldn't even just die right away, right? He shoots my mother twice in the head before he dies. Oh God, Ava, the worst thing in the world, way worse than getting raped, is watching your mother get shot in the head and die."
Wren turned away. How am I not crying, she wondered? How can I just tell this? God, I love you, Momma. You're still so good to me! I'm so so so sorry for what happened to you, Momma!
Wren stared out back. The chickadees were gone now. The patio space was empty.
She turned back to Ava who stared dumbly, eyes red and watery, mascara blotchy now.
"So yeah, like you said, shouldn't fucking happen to anybody. `Let alone such a sweet, innocent young girl!' -- that's what my uncle always added when he said it."
Ava could only hug the poor girl, who finally broke down weeping.
Through gulps of tears, Wren tried to tell Ava why she didn't want Remy to know about that part of her past yet.
"I just want love from Remy, Ava. Not pity or sorrow. I want to be the wonderful, amazing, cool girl he fell totally in love with. Not the sad, damaged victim he thinks he has to treat like some nut-case or something."
"Remy would never -- Wren, you know that's not Remy."
"I know, Ava, I know. But please? Please please please? Promise? Just let us grow together a little more, like we are. Let us be what we're supposed to be. Then I'll tell him, I swear. I have to, I know, but not until it's time. Until I know how to tell it just right to him."
"Of course, Wren. Oh, you sweet, beautiful girl! You're the bravest, strongest person I think I've ever known, Wren. I feel almost foolish for asking this, but is there anything at all I can do to help? Anything you need? Anything at all?"
"Not really, but thanks, Ava! I have a super-great therapist -- Dr. Field. At the U. I see her twice a month now (used to be every week). She's helped me enormously. And my aunt and uncle, of course, they've been amazing. And Njeri Dare -- my girlfriend upstairs -- she's been incredible, too. I almost feel whole again, amazingly enough. And I've made other girlfriends, which has helped. And now there's Remy! Oh, Ava! Remy! And it's like I can just feel my life is finally whole and starting up again for real!"
"You need to tell me what I can do, Wren. I want to do whatever I can."
"Just let me love your son, Ava. Let me be the most special girlfriend in the world to that most special boy."
Ava drew the girl to her, holding her tight, and kissed her, both of them sobbing together for a few minutes before either was able to talk again.
"Wren, I'm so happy you and Remy found each other. It still seems impossible. Like a miracle. My son is the luckiest boy in the world. Hey, want to help me make corn bread? I want to surprise Remy. He loves my cornbread!"
"Definitely! I'd love to learn to make something Remy loves!"
As Ava got down the dry ingredients, she told Wren where the bowls and measuring cups and baking pan were, and what to get from the refrigerator.
Ava measured ingredients for cornbread. Wren hugged her from behind, letting her thin fingers dance all over the older woman's naked body. Ava turned and hugged the girl with an explosive warmth, kissing long and lingering on her lips, their nipples wonderfully hard against each other's bare skin.
"My God, Wren! I've known you less than a day and already you're feeling like a daughter to me. You're perfect for Remy, darling."
"You're gonna be like another auntie to me, Ava. I'm so glad Remy has you. I was thinking last night, at dinner, that we need a girls' night in some night -- you and Sin, and me and Njeri and Desi -- some night when Remy's off with the boys. It'd be so dreamy! I have so much to learn from you, Ava. Marlo tried to teach me how to be a woman, but she doesn't really know -- about sex, I mean."
Wren rambled on softly, enjoying working in this lovely kitchen, talking with this woman she adored, on this sunny Sunday morning. She hoped she wasn't babbling.
"Auntie Marlo's awfully sweet, but she just doesn't have a clue. You'll love her, though! She's a delight! Remy and I have to plan a big dinner some night -- Meet the Parents!"
Wren finished buttering the pan, Ava poured in the batter, and in it went, Wren typing the recipe into her phone.
Wren had earlier urged her boyfriend and girlfriend to get to know each other, and so they did, quite intimately. Njeri turned out to be a lusciously expert cock-sucker -- as good as any boy, almost as good as Wren. She could take Remy down almost to the root, and like Wren, she knew to finger-fuck a boy while sucking him for maximum pleasure.
As Njeri sucked him hard, Remy got her dark brown pussy nice and wet with some feverish tongue-flicking and fingering, totally turned on by those meaty, burnt-umber labia, enfolding a big, juicy, cherry-pink clit and pussy walls.
Njeri begged him for anal -- which meant, for Remy, about ten minutes of worshipping her smooth, round, achingly perfect ass, tonguing and teasing her tight, dark-brown pucker before he eased in his girth.
As soon as he could pump his dick smoothly in her, she flipped and rode him, pleasuring her ass wildly on his huge dick. Remy lay back, hard dick throbbing, as he watched Njeri's gorgeous, nude body gyrate on his hard thickness, her firm, pert breasts transfixing him.
Afterwards, they talked. Njeri told him about what Wren was like freshman year -- odd and sad and shy and friendless, until she and Lavender took her under their wing -- and how she and Wren became serious girlfriends last year. She went into a long, loving riff about how special Wren was. Remy told her he knew.
Njeri's eyes flashed at him.
"You think you do, but you don't! You ain't really know a damn thing about that girl, Remy, take my word for it. You the first boy she ever say 'boo' to. But from what I see of you in school, and now this mornin', you all that, so I'm happy for my baby she finally nail you."
"Me too, Njeri."
Njeri spread those gorgeous, thick, magenta-glossy lips into a big smile.
"You know she have you in her sights that first day Ms. Beam's class, right? Shit, son, my girl nail you so fast, it ain't funny! She amazing."
Njeri knew Wren must have used a lot of conjuring, but she kept quiet about that, not knowing what Wren might not have told him.
Remy had a smile as big as Njeri's, feeling utter bliss at being Wren's boy, seeing now the perk of this sexy new girlfriend-world that came along with it.
"I was so damn willing to be nailed, Jer. It was you helped us finally get together yesterday, so thanks a million for that."
"You a lucky boy, Rem. You ain't even half know it yet. You will though. She a angel, and sexier than fuck."
Then they talked about Trey. Remy couldn't help raving about how gorgeous, how cool, how smart, how funny, how sexy Trey was. Njeri waved off all his hype.
"Just two things I wanna know -- is his dick big, and do he really like girls?"
He reassured her on both counts.
"What he look like naked?"
She fingered herself while Remy described in luscious detail Trey's muscular body, dark-cocoa skin, his firm ass, and his long, dark, beautifully thick nine inches, with that sexy patch of sparse, tightly curled, black pubes above it.
As he composed an ode to his boyfriend's beauty, he softly stroked and licked and fondled those small, perfectly round, dark-caramel breasts, which got a soft hum and some sexy dick-fondling from Njeri, which led to kissing the gorgeous girl's full, sensuous lips until Remy was hard as hell again.
Njeri fingered herself with one hand while aggressively jacking Remy.
Soon they were like two feral animals, crazed and hungry and boundless.
Njeri mounted him, straddling his muscular thighs and sensuously fitting her wet pussy over his jutting prick. Remy just about melted and wondered why the hell he'd ever had second thoughts about fucking a girl. Especially girls like Wren and Njeri, who craved cock as relentlessly as a gay boy did.
When Wren walked in on them, Remy was on his back, in bed, groaning at the feel of his cock being ridden hard by the lithe, athletic, black girl, not knowing if he was fucking her or she was fucking him. Wren slid onto the bed and made out with Njeri for a while. Her girlfriend panted excitedly in pleasure.
"He so damn fine, girl! Hot as fucking fuck! And you be right, honey -- fucking big-ass dick of his don't ever quit! I cum five times you been gone! Got yourself a damn hot-boy, Wrenny!"
Wren smiled, kissed Njeri, then straddled Remy's chest, presenting her pussy to his face. He cupped her small ass with both hands, pulled his girl closer, and voraciously attacked her slit as if it were manna to a desert-wandering disciple, all the while his strong, muscular hips kept grinding all up in her gorgeous girlfriend. For the three teens, it was a glorious beginning to their new normal.
Trey texted Remy about ten minutes later from in front of the house. Remy clicked the game on (sound off), put on some body-rocking reggae dub music (thumbs way up from both girls), then headed down to greet his boy.
Remy hadn't said a word about Wren and Njeri being there, anxious to surprise his bro. The two boys kissed hungrily at the front door, Trey loving to see his boy greet him nude like that. Remy was amped to have his elusive lover there finally, in his arms.
A quick introduction of Trey to Ava, who told the boys there would be lunch for them later, then they hurried upstairs.
Trey was shocked for maybe a second when he saw the naked girls lounging seductively on one of the couches, sharing a bowl of Remy's pot, then his face relaxed into his trademark cocky grin.
"It be the girls here, too, I see -- we doin' our homework at half-time or somethin'?"
Remy just about ripped his bro's clothes off and dragged him to the couch.
Wren's brain and cunt started throbbing at the size of Trey's cock and its beautifully luscious darkness. She wanted this always now, she knew.
The boys made out between taking hurried puffs of pot to catch up with the girls.
Trey, sprawled back on the couch, complimented Remy -- both on the pot and having two smoking hot girls in his bedroom -- telling his bro he was high and horny as fuck. Trey smiled slyly as he watched Njeri raise her naked, perfect brown body up off the couch opposite and head straight for him. She gently pushed Remy aside and began kissing Trey and stroking his huge length. Trey responded eagerly in kind.
Remy watched the two gorgeous black teens make out for a while. When Trey's huge dark dick was fully hard and the tip wet and shiny, he turned to Remy, grinning.
"Cool Game Day party, Rem -- even got cheerleaders!"
Remy and Wren curled up on the couch opposite, and the two couples made out, oblivious to the game. Remy loved how Wren still had on the Packers cap he gave her, like it branded her as his girl.
For her part, seeing Trey naked was a glorious landmark to Wren. She'd just received such a thrilling crash-course in naked boy anatomy from Remy yesterday, and now she had exhibit #2 -- her first black boy.
Wren had been crushing on all the gorgeous black boys at school for the past year or so, and now one of the dreamiest, most beautifully built, most erotically splendiferous No Hope black boys was right here, naked and stunning. She tingled with arousal, almost afraid of how disgustingly horny she was for Trey's cock
Trey was a bit leaner than Remy, though every bit as defined. His sleek, gleaming, carved-onyx muscle looked utterly delicious. But it was that cock Wren couldn't stop ogling.
Still nervous about how out of control she might get, Wen decided she needed to diffuse her lust, so she grabbed her phone, sidled over to the other couch, and started taking a bunch of photos and of Trey with Njeri. She switched to video as the couple began sixty-nining, and taking a movie had her feeling a little more in control of herself.
Remy pulled up next to her, jacking to his gorgeous bro getting with Wren's gorgeous girlfriend.
After a while, Remy slid in back of Wren, careful not to disturb the video she was taking, and started slowly frotting his hard cock in her butt-crack, reaching around and teasing her nipples. Wren worked her hips back against her boy's dick, reflex-like, and began fingering herself with her free hand while she kept her phone trained on Njeri, sitting on Trey's lap now, riding his dick.
Njeri looked so sensuous from behind, working her small, perfect ass up and down on Trey's ridiculously big dick, that huge nest of hair flying wildly as she rode.
After the two black teens had enjoyed their first amazing fuck, Wren couldn't wait to team up with Remy and lick their friends clean -- Remy on Njeri's pussy, Wren on Trey's cock.
Wren felt proud when she made Trey moan. She thrilled to hear his surprised whoop when she finally took him all the down -- even though she was a little humiliated by the noises she made, despite Remy's insistence that all that choking and snorting was a huge turn-on for the dude getting sucked.
A long, thick black dick felt unreal stuffing Wren's mouth and throat. An excited flush went through her as she thought of all the other huge black cocks she'd be sucking this fall, as Remy's girlfriend.
After she polished off Trey's quickly-coaxed load, Wren loved playing with Trey's braids, running her hands over them, fisting a bunch of them like a cock when Trey went down on her, to return the favor for sucking his dick.
Every time Remy went to change the record or fill up a pipe or get them drinks downstairs, Wren and Njeri teamed up on Trey and licked and kissed and sucked and fondled him everywhere.
Njeri whispered to Wren at one point, crowing about how they each suddenly had two hot boyfriends.
"You 'n Rem so damn hot together -- like you the Prince and Princess of No Hope!"
"Back atcha, Jer -- I can't imagine a more beautiful couple than you and Trey."
Throughout the first half of the Vikings/Bears game, the four sexy teens alternated partners and permutations kaleidoscopically. There were same-sex couplings, foursomes, and every possible threesome. Each boy loved watching the girls suck his bro's cock, and the girls adored watching the boys suck each other.
Wren kept her phone trained on the action as Remy fucked Trey while he ate out Jeri, then Trey fucked Jeri while she sucked off Remy. Wren was terribly torn between filming the incredibly hot action and joining in.
"We can share the women, we can share the wine," Remy thought to himself, and then put Side 2 of EUROPE '72 on, so his guests could hear "Jack Straw" and the verse that had been haunting his mind throughout their coupling.
The boys flip-flopped for the girls, who squealed and fingered each other excitedly as they watched the muscular beauties couple (Wren somehow able to keep her phone trained on the two studs while she teased her girlfriend's clit).
Trey and Remy were typical alpha males, Wren thought, full of themselves, proud and cocky and arrogant to show off their bodies, eager to impress the girls with how sexy they looked when they got with another boy, turning boy-sex into some cool show-off stunt to impress their girlfriends. All their conceit was justified, though -- they were insanely gorgeous, outrageously sexy.
Around half-time, Ava invited them all down for chili and cornbread and chips and guac with her and Sin, who'd just got back from Sunday Service. An absolutely lovely lunch, for all involved, in the shabby-chic space of Remy's dining room, lit by golden, early fall sunlight, all six of them naked and beautiful, celebrating the gift of a lovely time together.
Sin really seemed to respond to Trey, directing much attention and concern to him. The pastor was particularly struck when Trey referred to his mother as a `Church Woman,' Sin gently wondering why she'd never seen her at services.
"I ain't never see her actually go off t' church -- she just be readin' Scripture at home. She always quotin' me verses from it, tryna tell me how it show what a wicked boy I am."
Remy eye-rolled, but didn't want to say anything about a woman he'd never met.
Sin said she'd enjoy meeting Trey's mother some time soon, to tell her about what her church could offer her in terms of community outreach.
Back upstairs for more Game Day fun until the start of the fourth quarter, when they all became pleasantly fucked out.
The girls regrettably had to leave, so Remy packed up the extra pint of raspberries and a huge hunk of last night's fruit tart for Wren's aunt and uncle. A long, swooningly romantic good-bye scene played out at the front door between the boys and girls.
Remy grabbed beers for Trey and him to take back upstairs. They sipped on them and lazily made out together while they watched the Vikes' fourth quarter come-back over the Bears. Remy flipped to NFL RedZone for the late-window games. He and Trey smoked some more, got their second wind, and ping-ponged between RedZone action and boy-sex.
Remy again asked Trey if they could be boyfriends.
"No need, Rem. Our girls be like sisters, so that make us like brothers. We kinda even like `dentical twins, cept you light-skinned as fuck, 'n I got a better body, bigger dick, better hair, 'n way more handsome. 'N now that we brothers, what we be doin be incest -- make it even hotter!"
"Hell yeah! Speaking of which, you got a little brother -- you two foolin' around? Because lotsa of the black dudes I got with in Milwaukee turned their little brothers or cousins or nephews out. Some kinda rite-of-passage shit or something. Sounded hot as fuck to me. Bet your little bro's as hot as you."
"Aw hell no. My little brother jus' an ugly-ass fool. I wouldn't piss on him, let alone fuck him. He mean as shit, too. Name be Little, 'n he a little shit, zactly like his daddy -- ugly 'n mean. Not like my daddy. I seen pictures o' my daddy -- gorgeous dude, zactly like his boy."
Both boys were feeling the pot. They started kissing and fondling their gorgeous muscle.
Kissing Trey -- mashing against those full, gorgeous, utterly sensual lips -- got Remy hard as fuck. Soon Trey had him sprawled back against the sofa, giving him some of the best oral Remy'd ever had (almost as hot as Wren he laughed to himself).
Trey noticed the big clock on Remy's bedroom wall and said he had to get home, so Remy sucked him off for a bit while fingering him, then dove for his boy's hole, rimming his bro, lapping up that smooth chocolate trench until the gorgeous black boy began howling with delight, working his ass back hard against Remy's tongue and fingers.
Remy turned him round and pulled back that huge black dick so his tongue had a straight-line shot from Trey's pucker to his cock-tip. He sloppily licked him up and down until he saw that eggplant-colored nut-sac start shriveling.
Remy kept fingering Trey's hole and took his bro's cock-head in his mouth, which quickly released a flood of boy-cream. They shared Trey's load as they tenderly kissed good-bye and worshipped each other's muscle.
Trey told his bro how fine he was while he got dressed.
"You da best, Rem. Hottest, coolest, sexiest boy I ever know. I be bullshittin' you before -- you know that, right? -- sayin' my body hotter 'n yours. Damn, bro, wish we didn't have to be so down-low 'bout lovin' each other, but ain't no way I can have my moms find out I be into boys. She ain't cool like your moms."
Remy walked Trey downstairs and saw him out. He had a little more chili and cornbread while he did his homework in front of the Sunday Night game.
Remy was brilliantly happy. Best damn weekend ever -- by a factor of about a zillion.
Wren texted about 11, telling him to check his email. He discovered she'd sent him a video clip entitled "GameDay3Way."
Remy downloaded and clicked it on, getting hard almost immediately as he watched Wren's beautifully edited video of him and Trey and Njeri that afternoon, sucking and fucking in various combinations, to a soundtrack of some reggae dub, which segued into the Dead's "Jack Straw," which Wren had never really heard before but told Remy she thought it was perfect when he'd played it earlier.
Wren's editing was brilliant, Remy thought, she held scenes for the exact right amount of time, pacing the sex-play with an erotic rhythm that kept Remy boned the entire time.
Damn, he thought, as he jacked to it -- they were all so fucking beautiful, especially Trey and Njeri.
After he stroked out a load, a little more than halfway through the vid, he called Wren to tell her what a hot, genius thing she'd done.
"It's kind of my thing, Remy darling. I'm obsessed with recording, then re-shaping, the sex I'm a part of. Did you really like it? I thought it was so beautiful. Cause you and Jeri and Trey all looked so beautiful."
"Wren, it was amazing. I will be jacking to this for the rest of my life. Yeah, we all look incredible, I thought the same thing, and the sex is so fucking hot. Girls are fucking amazing."
"What did you think of the soundtrack I chose? I'm sure you liked the Dead, but what about the Burning Spear? Weren't you playing that, too?"
"I was -- GARVEY'S GHOST."
"I couldn't remember which album it was, but I knew it was Burning Spear, so I just grabbed something super-sexy off the internet. I thought it fit all that steamy sucking and fucking in the first part really well. And plus, I wanted something Jamaican for Trey"
"It was perfect, Wren. Everything was perfect."
"Cool if I send a copy to Trey and Njeri?"
"Of course! Trey's gonna go nuts!"
Remy paused for a while. It was hard to say, but he had to say it.
"I wish you were here now, Wren. I -- I just -- ."
He started choking up. It would be sappy and lovey-dovey to say what he felt, but he couldn't help it. He got up his nerve.
"I just miss you so much when you're not here. Not just the sex, but you. You're like -- this is gonna sound so damn corny, but you're like a part of me now, Wren. I don't know how else to say it. It seems wrong now when you're not here."
No response from Wren. Total silence. Was she crying or something?
"Wren? Wren, you still there?"
Nothing.
Holy shit, he'd fucked up! Damn it! Why the fuck did he have to put pressure on her, wishing he was with her? That was greedy and stupid, and now she's hung up on me. Fuck Fuck Fuck!
"Wren! Wren! Hello?"
Still nothing. Fuck! You fucking needy, dumbass motherfucker!
Then he thought -- what if there was nothing on the other end because Wren had suddenly passed or something? Maybe he should get dressed and immediately -- .
"Remy?"
Finally! Thank you, gods!
"Wren! Damn, girl! You had me worried as fuck! Everything OK? I thought maybe you blacked out."
"I'm fine, Remy. Sorry, angel. I set my phone down in my room and went downstairs. I wanted to talk to Marlo and Dexter. Remy, if you meet me at my door in five minutes and walk me back to your place, I can stay for a while tonight -- if you promise to have me home and in bed by 2 AM. Dexter said this would be a test -- if anything goes wrong at school tomorrow on account of I'm too tired, then we can't do a school-night booty-call any more, but if nothing goes wrong, then -- yay! -- we can do them again! Oh Remy, isn't that marvelous?"
"See you in four minutes. Be ready -- we are flying back to my place! Fuck, I love you so damn much!"
"I worship and adore you, Remy! Hurry, my lightning-swift Lord!"
Before he left to fetch her, he grabbed his copy of LIVE/DEAD to lend her. He handed it to her at her front door.
She was so excited, she ran up to get a record to lend him -- Dexter's copy of the original cast recording of COMPANY. If Remy loved Paul Westerberg's super-clever lyrics, she thought, he'll love this.
Their late-night sex was all too brief, of course, but utterly satisfying.
Remy regrettably but dutifully had his girl back at her front door at 1:55.
As they kissed goodbye, Remy told her he'd be at her house tomorrow morning to walk her to school. She hugged him in gratitude and told him to get there early enough so they could have coffee together.