Tripod Chapter 33
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"Tripod - Chapter 33
The following morning was Saturday and Asher's shopping day had arrived. We weren't going to meet up with Ashley until noon, so there was no huge rush to get us out of bed. On the other hand, I'd promised to make Asher something special for breakfast, so I didn't want to stay in bed with Darius until 11:30, even though that was very tempting. At 8:00, I nudged Darius awake.
I rested my face in the hair on my boyfriend's muscular chest, gazed into his deep chocolate-colored eyes, and said, "Good morning, my furry fantasy fuck."
"Didn't know you were so poetic," Darius smirked. "Oh my God! You're the man from Nantucket!" he yelled.
"I sure am," I laughed. "So long I can suck it. You don't seem to mind at all. I think you kinda get off watching me do it."
"You're damn right I do, but I'm gonna let you take a break from that and do some of that work for you."
Darius slipped down under the covers and enveloped my morning wood in his warm mouth.
I pulled up the cover before he could really get into it and said, "I've got to get breakfast going. How about we head into the bathroom where I turn you into a human shish kebab instead? We can take care of two great things at once. I'll fuck you silly, then we can take turns washing each other off. Saves time, electricity, and water," I said.
A knowing smile spread across his face. "So conscious of the environment. Let's go save the planet."
We tiptoed out of the bedroom, me in a robe and Darius in gym shorts and a muscle t-shirt. Mom & Dad were still in their room as we walked down the hall to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and shoved Darius into the shower stall.
"Oops, you dropped the soap," I said.
"What are you talking a..." He laughed. "Yeah, how clumsy of me. Let me bend over to pick it up."
That was all I needed to see to get me rock hard. I grabbed the condom and lube out of my bathrobe pocket, slipped the condom down over the anaconda, and stepped into the shower. With a couple of squirts of lube, the both of us were slicked up and Darius became hot meat on my human skewer. As I fucked him harder and deeper, I had to shove a washcloth in his mouth to keep his moans and screams from waking my parents. No matter how much of my 11+" I shoved up his behind, he screamed for more. Wanting to keep to my promise of saving valuable planetary resources, I didn't take long to get Darius blasting six shots of his bright-white jizz onto the shower wall. I was only seconds behind him, slamming my balls against his ass a few last times before unloading deep, deep inside.
"Don't pull out yet," he said, as he slowly stood up and let me wrap my arms around him. "I love this feeling. It's like we're melded together."
"I don't think this is what the expression `joined at the hip' means, babe, but for what it's worth, whether you fuck me or I fuck you, it's still special."
"Better than your other friends? I mean from what you've told me, Brandon is a fucking sex God," Darius remarked.
"I know you're not the jealous type, so I'm going to guess that this isn't a trick question and I'll give you the whole truth. Those guys are amazing. We've had mind-blowing sex together. But as much as I love them and I can't imagine my life without them, you're my boyfriend, and sex with you is on a different level. When I cum with you, I feel it not just down here," (I pushed my still-hard cock even deeper into Darius) "but in here, too." (I took my hand and rested it over Darius's heart.)
Darius turned his head around so I could see a tear forming in the corner of his eye. He just smiled and pulled me in tighter.
"OK, the shish kebab is well done. Time to take it out of the oven," Darius smirked a minute later.
My dick slipped out of his hole and the two of us spent a couple of minutes lovingly scrubbing each other down and kissing. Just as I was starting to prune up, Darius reached over and shut off the water. I grabbed a towel for him and one for me.
"Time for you to make us another amazing meal," Darius said.
"Asher's asked me to make him something decidedly not kosher, so he's getting his first take of bacon this morning."
"Great, feeding pork to Muslims and Jews. You're evil, you know," Darius said.
"What the fuck are you talking about? I haven't exactly seen you steering clear of sausage and pepperoni pizzas. And Asher specifically asked me to do this," I remarked defensively.
"Jaime, relax. I'm kidding. Asher is so lucky to have you as a brother. But I'm luckier. Now let's get dressed."
After drying off, applying some deodorant, and putting some product in my hair, we walked back to my bedroom and put on some clothes.
Within a few minutes, I'd gotten a large pot of coffee going and had thrown together some blueberry pancake batter. I set Darius up to cut a fresh pineapple and some strawberries while I put the bacon onto a sheet pan and set it into a cold oven, which I then turned on to 400°F (200C). If you put bacon on a sheet pan and then let it cook as the oven comes up to temperature, it doesn't curl up as much. You get nice, long strips of crispy bacon.
Then, I heated up the griddle and got to work cooking the pancakes.
"I knew I smelled coffee," Asher said, as he shuffled into the kitchen in his pajamas about fifteen minutes later, "but what's that other thing that smells so good?"
"Maybe the pineapple?" Darius laughed. "Or the blueberry pancakes?"
"Stop! You know what I'm talking about," Asher said, giving Darius a good-natured shove.
"That, my innocent little brother, is bacon. Smoked meat straight from a pig. As traif as it gets. It should be ready in about five minutes. You ready to go straight to hell?"
"Jews don't believe in hell, but if there is one, I'm headed straight there," Asher laughed.
Mom & Dad's timing was perfect. They walked down the stairs just as I pulled the bacon out of the oven.
"We've been up for a while, but once we smelled the bacon, we knew we had to come downstairs to watch this," Dad laughed.
With the pancakes done, the fruit cut, the bacon crispy, and the coffee brewed, Darius and I set platters of the food down on the table so that everyone could help themselves. A small jug of real maple syrup was at the ready for the pancakes.
Asher gently placed a serving of each food item onto his plate, including the smallest strip of bacon. Once everyone had filled their plates, we all looked at Asher.
"Well? Are you going to do it or not?" I asked.
Asher blushed, uncomfortable at being the center of attention. He then looked around the table, let the smallest of impish smiles cross his face, reached for the bacon with his fingers, and took a bite. It only took two chews for the impish smile to be replaced by a look of sheer joy.
"That is the best thing I've ever put in my mouth."
Darius and I looked at each other and had to hold onto each other to keep from falling off our chairs laughing.
"I'll ask you again in a couple of years and we'll see if you say the same thing," I teased.
Dad laughed. Mom gave me serious side-eye. Asher blushed crimson.
Trying to change the subject, Asher said, "The pancakes and fruit are really delicious, too, Jaime. Thanks for doing this for me."
"You're special, Asher, but so is everyone else here. I did this for all of us because cooking for them is how I show people that I love them."
Mom's side-eye turned to a broad smile and she reached out to grab my hand.
"Yes, thanks, Jaime, everything really is delicious. And thanks to you, too, Darius for helping out. You're a part of our family now, too," Mom said.
Darius, who rarely was at a loss for words, just smiled and grabbed my other hand.
"Jaime, we've put $300 on your debit card for you to take Asher clothes shopping. Have you talked to Ashley about the budget?" Dad asked.
I laughed. "I texted her about going to the store that has the nice, old greeters and she just about shit herself. I think we'll probably hit a thrift shop and the mall. Ashley is mostly just talk. She's actually pretty down-to-earth. I told her to look at those online videos about doing designer looks for less and she texted me back and said she loved it. Totally up for the challenge."
"Sounds perfect," Mom replied, "Asher, have you thought about what you'd like?"
"I've thought about it a lot, actually" he began. "The white shirt and black pants I wore aren't really about being Jewish. They're more like a uniform to show that I belonged to a Haredi community. So, that part is going to be easier than the food thing was to leave behind. You're not supposed to buy clothing made from different types of fabrics, so no wool and cotton blends. But I've just eaten bacon, so to hell with that, I'll buy whatever I like. And I definitely want something with bright colors and some patterns. I think we can throw my white shirts in the fire when we get back!"
"Maybe donating them to charity would be the kinder thing to do," Dad said.
Asher looked a bit embarrassed and nodded, "You're right. I'm sure someone could use them."
Asher looked lustfully down the table towards a platter that was set near my dad, "Is anyone else going to eat that bacon?"
***
First stop was going to be the thrift shop on the fringes of downtown Evanston, steps from the L stop. Since we'd ultimately end up at the mall, which was a couple of towns over, we got into Mom's car and swung by Ashley's place, instead of taking mass transit.
"Good morning, Fashion Goddess," I said, as I leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks in the European fashion, "Mua! Mua!"
"Oh, brother," Ashley laughed, "let's get this show on the road. I've brought dark sunglasses and a big hat so that no one recognizes me. I do have a reputation to uphold after all."
Darius and I knew she was just being funny. Poor Asher didn't quite know what to think.
As we walked into the thrift shop, I said, "This is where I got a lot of my Halloween costume for Ashley's infamous party."
"You're going to dress me up in a Halloween costume?!" Asher exclaimed, his eyes wide with terror.
"Relax, Squire Tuck," Darius replied, "no green tights or feathered hats for thou. We're gonna see if we can get a couple of cool vintage things for you. Stuff that can take years to break in if you buy it new, but you don't have that kind of time."
Ashley looked around suspiciously. The clientele was eclectic: Latinos, African-Americans, working-class whites, and hipster twenty-somethings, along with some senior-citizen matrons clearly looking for bargains. Before we got to the menswear section, we walked past rows of women's shoes and purses. Ashley's eyes were darting around like a hawk looking to spot a field mouse at 500 meters. Then they locked in on the target and she ran over to pick up a purse.
"Oh, my God. This bag retailed for $2,800 three years ago. How sad to wind up here."
Then she opened it and looked at the price tag.
"$50!! Some girl's gonna get really lucky. It's still a great little bag and if you don't care that it's from last, last, last season, well, this is amazing. I've always wondered where last season's stuff goes to die. OK, on to the task at hand."
"I need to grab a blanket first," I said.
"Didn't you get enough last night and this morning?" Darius smirked. "This isn't exactly the best place to put on a sex show."
"You'll see why in a minute," I responded. Everyone's curiosity was piqued.
"What's your waist size, Asher?"
"30, I think."
I ran and grabbed a blanket off of the bedding table, then everyone followed me over to the rack of jeans.
"Go to it, Ashley," I said. "Let's see if we can find him a nice pair of broken-in jeans."
I started at one end of the 30s and Ashley at the other, rejecting item after item made of ugly, stiff denim that had been born in one of those middle-of-the-road retail stores that were nowadays circling the drain.
Then Ashley let out the slightest squeal.
"Check these out!" It was a pair of black denim jeans with rips on the thighs by an exclusive Italian designer.
"But they're ripped. Did someone die?" Asher asked, referring to the Orthodox Jewish custom of cutting a garment after a family member has died. Nowadays, most people just pinned a small piece of fabric that had been cut to their clothes to comply with the tradition.
Ashley turned to Asher and explained, "Oh no, my dear, innocent child, rich people pay hundreds of dollars for ripped jeans so that they can look like they're poor. But then when someone checks out their ass, they'll see the designer label and realize that the person who looks like a pauper is actually loaded and they're in on the joke. Got it?"
Asher looked completely confused. "I guess," he replied.
"Go try these on," Ashley commanded.
"Not so fast, Miss Prêt à Porter. There are no dressing rooms here. That's what the blanket's for. Darius, grab an end. Ashley, you grab the other end. Asher, step to the middle. Now we raise up the blanket and make a portable dressing room. Got it?"
Asher looked suspicious and not a little bit embarrassed.
"No girl has ever seen me in my underwear before. I'm kinda shy."
"You'll survive. If you can eat bacon, you can certainly let Ashley see your underwear," I pushed.
Asher slid off his dad jeans, revealing an ugly pair of white boxer shorts. We'd have to work on getting him some decent underwear, too. Just not from a second-hand store...yuck. Asher slipped on the jeans that Ashley had handed him. They fit like a glove. The kid actually had a nice, little ass.
"OK, roll up the pants legs into cuffs so that we can see your ankles," Ashley instructed. "Now turn around."
Asher blushed a bit as the three of us checked him out and nodded approvingly.
Darius leaned in and whispered, "Kid's got a nice package, too."
"He's fifteen, you perv! We'll have to swap out those boxer shorts for something a little more `discreet,' I think," I responded. "How much, Ashley?"
"Twenty-five bucks! These retailed for over $300. Amazing!"
Asher got back into his ugly jeans.
"Should we keep looking?" I asked. "Maybe a second pair, but this time blue jeans?"
"Hell, why not?" Ashley responded, clearly energized by the first great find.
There were still candidates left on the original rack as we shuffled through pair after pair. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Then, the second-to-last pair was from a hot, NYC designer known for elevating your everyday casual looks.
"Asher, it's your lucky day. This guy's jeans are amazing. Super high-quality, selvedge denim. That means smaller batches, but with the ends finished so they don't unravel. Very nice," Ashley explained. "They retail for $160. But just $25 here and these have a 30-inch inseam, so they'll probably fit just right for you."
With the portable dressing room in place, Asher tried the jeans on and we had another winner.
"OK, let's look for one other vintage piece. I see a rack of jackets over there," I said.
We headed towards the back of the store. There weren't that many to choose from in the "Small" section, but then something caught my eye. It was a vintage letterman jacket from Asher's Chicago high school with the image of a wrestler embroidered on the back and the word "Wrestling" emblazoned above it. The jacket could easily have been forty years old.
Asher saw the name of the school on the jacket and the color drained from his face.
"No! Why would I want to be reminded of that place?"
"Asher, remember what my Alte Bubbe says, `Living your life is the best revenge.' This is your way of saying, `Fuck you!' to that school. You survived and got a cool jacket to prove it."
Asher begrudgingly tried on the jacket, which fit him perfectly, allowing a bit of space underneath for a hoodie or a sweater to wear when it got really cold.
"I love that it's a wrestler's jacket," Darius said. "Besides gymnastics, what other sport would have varsity team members who wear size `small'?"
Asher thought for a second and piped up, "In my old community, playing sports was forbidden. You were supposed to spend your time studying Torah. This is also a way to show that I'm done with that, too. Maybe when the weather gets warmer, we can throw around a baseball?"
"Absolutely, little brother," I said, pulling him into a hug. "Now let's pay up and get out of here."
By the time we arrived at the mall, it was about 1:30 PM and we were getting hungry.
"Lunch is on me," Ashley said. "My mom said she'd cover it. She was touched by your story, Asher."
For the most part, the offerings at the food court at the mall weren't bad, but nothing inspiring.
"Is there any place that specializes in bacon?" Asher joked. I'd created a monster.
"Actually, this one looks tasty," Asher said, as we stood in front of a Middle-Eastern vegetarian place that offered up falafel in a bunch of different ways.
"Feeling guilty after this morning?" I said to Asher, pointing out the big Circle-K symbol hanging by the cash register that indicated the restaurant was kosher.
"I love falafel and those salad plates look tasty, and healthy, too. And, yeah, maybe I'm feeling a touch guilty, but I'll get over it."
Darius and I ordered falafel sandwiches served in fresh, pillowy pita with a nice dollop of tahini sauce and pickled veggies. Ashley and Asher picked a falafel salad bowl with the option of a ton of different salad toppings.
"Good choice, Asher," Darius said. "Really tasty. A great change from the usual fast-food crap."
"Even I have to admit that this is pretty good," Ashley said, as the cheap, plastic fork she held in her impeccably manicured hands delivered another heaping bite into her eagerly-awaiting mouth. "I mean, no Michelin stars but it sure as hell beats that shit they serve at our school cafeteria."
Once we'd finished up, Ashley took charge of our agenda.
"I did my homework. I went onto a bunch of those `looks for less' sites and have a list of stores here at the mall where we should be able to find some decent stuff," she said confidently. "This way, boys."
"This is a store from Spain, but really, they're all over the world. Let's get you some t-shirts first," Ashley said.
"But it's cold out. Shouldn't we get me something with long sleeves?" Asher inquired.
"Patience, young man. Let me explain. Those t-shirts are just the first layer. When you put together an outfit, you're looking for complementary colors and textures. Since we just got you some cool jeans, I wouldn't pick out a denim shirt for you because, well, that would be too `matchy-matchy'. The nice thing is that both blue and black jeans can go with just about any kind of shirt, except denim. Get it?"
"What's `denim'"? Asher asked sheepishly.
"Remember, he was born on another planet," Darius explained.
Ashley did her best to be respectful. She took a breath and began, "Denim is a type of fabric that's used to make jeans. It's usually medium-to-heavy weight and if you look closely, it mixes white and either blue or black threads in the cloth. It's usually made of cotton. The name comes from France where it was originally called `serge de Nîmes.' And that got shorted just to `denim'."
"Well look at you! Not only an accomplished stylist, but a fashion historian, too," I teased.
"Look, there's a bunch of Ts on sale. $12.90 each. Get one in black, one in white, and one in gray. And get some long-sleeved ones, too. You're right about the cold."
"I kinda wanted some color. I'm tired of black and white," Asher moaned.
"The color goes on top. You can match those t-shirts with literally anything."
We walked over to a rack of sale shirts. $19.90 each. Mostly short-sleeved.
Ashley swung into action, whipping through the selection of size S shirts at blinding speed until she found one that she liked. It had an abstract pattern that incorporated touches of color but wasn't an assault on the eyes.
"Hmm, not bad. I bet this was a big seller last season. You can see they only have one `S' left and a couple of `XLs', which tells me that it was popular because there are none in medium or large. I think we should also pick you up a navy blue, long-sleeved shirt; a pair of cream-colored sweats; a hoodie; and a cool flannel, but I have another store in mind for the flannel. Boys, head over to the `Basics' section and see what you can find for the shirt, sweats, and hoodie while I keep looking over here with Asher."
Darius and I did as we were told and headed toward the back of the store. Within ten seconds a young, black, good-looking sales guy had descended on us, smiling broadly.
"Hey, gents. Can I help you find something?" His eyes seemed to be riveted to Darius, who picked up on the not-so-subtle cues.
Darius smiled, checked the kid out from top to bottom and back, scanning the kid's name tag along the way, and said, "Hi, Kevin, we're looking for a navy-blue shirt, a pair of cream-colored sweats, and a hoodie for his little brother. Size small."
Kevin looked intrigued. "I'd be happy to assist. It's so nice of you to help out your buddy like this."
"He's my boyfriend," Darius said, grabbing my hand.
Kevin turned toward me and said, "You have excellent taste in boyfriends."
"I think so," I laughed.
Then Kevin added, "And you're kinda cute yourself."
I smiled and said, "So are you."
"Thanks. OK, let's get some clothes for your little brother... Size S, right?"
We both nodded.
Kevin paused for a second, then said, "You know, I also have something you might like in size XL. It's not on the racks. I'd have to show it to you at a private event. I get off work at 7:00."
Darius and I looked at each other, half caught off guard and half intrigued by the proposition. Kevin was very cute, with dark skin, high cheekbones, thin, but toned. About 5' 10" (177cm) tall. And with perfect, bright-white teeth.
"My mom's making dinner for us tonight," Darius said, "but we can probably get away after 9:00. Wanna tell us something about you first?"
"I'm 18. I live in Rogers Park with my mom who's a nurse. She's working tonight, so we can have the place to ourselves. Oh, and I don't usually hit on my customers."
Darius and I looked at each other, the suspicion silently communicated between us.
"Yeah, sorry," Kevin said, "I guess I did come off as kind of a weird stalker. I'm really not. Here's my contact info." Kevin held up his phone. I scanned the QR code.
"Can we see your social media profiles?" I asked.
"No problem. Here you go," Kevin said.
Darius and I checked out his profiles. The kid seemed like a pretty typical teenager. Lots of posts with friends and a few with family. Some decent-looking food posts, too. We gave him our social media names, too.
"By the way, I'm a size XL, too," Darius said. "Little Jaime here is from the Big & Tall store. And even they don't usually have his size in stock."
"I never would have guessed, I'm really looking forward to our trunk show then," Kevin laughed.
Kevin picked out some decent clothing candidates and handed them to us. We found Ashley standing outside the dressing room waiting for Asher. She'd grabbed a pair of stand-in jeans so that Asher could put together a few good looks. She'd already taken snaps of a few of them.
Asher walked out wearing the patterned shirt unbuttoned with the gray t-shirt underneath. Not bad. I handed Asher the clothing that Kevin had picked out for him and sent him back for a few more combinations. Ashley took shots of all of them.
"OK, Asher, which ones do you like the best?"
"I love this shirt," Asher said, pointing to the photo of the short-sleeved, colorful number that Ashley had found.
"For winter, you can pair that with one of the long-sleeved t-shirts. In summer, you can wear it with one of the short-sleeved Ts or by itself. Now what about the dark blue, long-sleeved ones?"
"I like this one with the white t-shirt underneath. It even looks nice with these sweatpants. But I think the black t-shirts make me look too pale."
"Now you're getting the hang of it," Ashley said. "Some looks are great for some people and not so great for others. I look awful in pale blue. Pink, too. It just doesn't work for warm blondes."
"And I like this hoodie," Asher said, pointing to a burgundy one. "It's a great color, but not too bright."
"Perfect. Now, let's pare this down to your favorites so that we still have money left to buy you some kicks, and a flannel" I said.
"Kicks?" Asher asked.
"Gym shoes, sneakers, trainers," I said.
"Got it."
Even after picking out stuff only from the clearance and "basics" racks, we had already spent over $250 for the day. At the next store, Ashley found a really nice flannel for $35. It had some interesting colors in it and was definitely not your standard lumberjack look.
"We're almost out of money, dude," I said to Asher, "and we really need to buy you some decent underwear. Those white boxers are awful. We swung by a department store, which as luck would have it, had a 25% off sale on underwear.
"Some nice boxer briefs with a pouch in front will keep your boys happy," I said.
Asher blushed. "I don't need to try them on, right?"
We all laughed. "No, definitely not," I replied.
Asher looked relieved.
"Well, you'll just have to stick with those crappy shoes you've got for now," I said.
"I've got $25 I can kick in," Darius volunteered.
"And I'll cover the rest," Ashley said. "It would be a shame to get this far without crossing the finish line."
Most of the popular shoe brands had their own stores at this mall. Keeping to our rule of only shopping for sale and "basic" items, we struck out at the first two. The sale shoes were either really ugly or they were out of stock on Asher's size 9's.
We finally struck gold at the third store where we found a stylish, white, all-purpose gym shoe for $59.99. But wait, there's more! They were having a "buy one, get the second for half-price (on the lesser-priced item)" sale. We found another pair of fun, casual shoes on sale for $45 (minus the half off at the register) and as luck would have it, they only had two pairs left, size 9 and size 13.
Ashley insisted that we buy them, noting that it was a good, neutral color and that no guy should rely only on gym shoes for his look.
As we gathered up all of our shopping bags and started to head out of the mall, Asher stopped dead in his tracks.
"Can we sit down for a second?" He asked the group.
We walked over to the nearest seating area.
"Are you OK, Asher? What's going on?" I asked.
"I'm just a little overwhelmed. I think I've kinda gotten used to struggling the past few months. Trying to figure out how to survive. And now I have three people just to help me pick out some nice clothes."
Asher started to cry tears of relief. The realization that his new life had really begun washed over him. He began to sob. I pulled him in tight and Ashley and Darius wrapped their arms around us.
"I know, babe," Ashley began, "nothing like a new outfit to get you all choked up."
Asher laughed through his tears.
"Now maybe next week we can do something about that lame haircut," Ashley added.
***
I dropped Ashley and Darius off at their respective houses. It was only 3:30 PM and I didn't need to be at Darius's place until 7:00. A quick nap was definitely on the menu.
Mom & Dad were home when we arrived, each on their laptop catching up on work-related stuff.
I sent Asher away with his bags of clothing and shoes to show off the day's purchases. He returned over and over, showing how Ashley had given him ideas for various combinations to keep the looks fresh.
When he stepped out wearing his vintage letterman jacket, Mom & Dad looked at each other, then back to us.
"Asher, you do realize where that jacket is from, right?" Mom asked, in a sweet tone, clearly not wanting to upset Asher.
Asher beamed and answered, "Hell, yeah! This beautiful jacket is my `fuck you' to that school and everyone in it. The original owner was a wrestler. He fought hard to earn this jacket. And you know what? So did I."
"You certainly did," Dad said. "And it looks great on you."
"You picked up a lot of stuff for $300, Jaime," Mom said. "Nice work."
"Besides the second-hand jacket and jeans, we shopped sale, clearance, and basic stuff only. We did go a little over though," I said.
"By how much?" Mom asked suspiciously.
"About $80," I said.
"Not too bad. I thought it was going to be worse. I don't want you dipping into your saving. We'll reimburse you," she said.
"No need. I spent the $300, then Darius and Ashley kicked in the rest."
"That was really sweet of them. We should have Ashley over for dinner to thank her. I know you'll figure out a way to thank Darius," Dad smirked.
"Yeah, I got him a new toy that we're gonna play with tonight," I thought to myself.
"Asher, you can hang out with Mom & Dad tonight and help make dinner, then Dad can teach you some stuff on your cell phone. I'm gonna be at Darius's place."
***
Dinner at Darius's house was absolutely delicious. Braised lamb shanks served with tahdig the crispy Persian rice dish.
I told Darius's family about Asher's story. Yasmin and Javid commented about what a nice thing we were doing for him.
I finally met Darius's sister Ariana, who volunteered that she had some friends at West, including a couple of gay kids who were also fifteen, and that she'd let them know to watch out for Asher.
"That's really nice of you. Ya know, Darius always talks about your great taste in music. Asher has had no exposure to anything that's really hot now. Maybe you'd like to come over to our place one afternoon and kind of get him up to speed on what kids are listening to now? Not just alternative stuff, but pop, metal, a little of everything, OK?
"He's really a good kid, Ari. He's just been through a lot, but he's smart and funny," Darius interjected.
Ariana nodded.
"I think that's a wonderful idea," Yasmin said.
Darius and I cleared the dinner dishes and got them into the dishwasher, then Darius told his folks that we were going to the movies and would be back by midnight.
It was only a fifteen-minute drive to Kevin's house at Touhy and Paulina in Rogers Park. We parked across the street from a beautiful, two-story, brick, single-family home just blocks from the Loyola University campus. The porch light was on.
I sent Kevin a text letting him know we were parking. The front door of the house swung open and Kevin was there in a skin-hugging, white t-shirt and a pair of tight gym shorts, leaving not much to the imagination.
"Come in, guys. It's cold out."
Kevin took our jackets and hung them up in the front hall closet.
"Do you want something to drink? Juice? A can of pop? Bottled water? I don't want you to think I'm all fuck and no talk," Kevin said.
"I'll have a water," I volunteered.
"Make that two," Darius said.
"Cool. Go have a seat. I'll be right back."
We sat down in the living room, which was nicely decorated with contemporary furniture. Lots of family photos of Kevin, his mom, and two other women, who I took to be older sisters, were placed around the room. A photo of Kevin at his high school graduation was in a prominent spot above the fireplace.
"So, tell us about you, besides that you like clothes," Darius said, accepting the water from Kevin.
"OK," Kevin said, sitting in an overstuffed chair that flanked the sofa. "I'm the baby of the family. My two older sisters are already out of college and living on their own. My folks split when I was thirteen, I think mostly `cause my mom was too liberal for my dad, who's from Nigeria originally. I was still close to my dad until I came out to him last year. Now we don't talk much, but my mom and I get along great. I'm in school at Loyola studying marketing. And I took the job to get the clothing discount. I only work part-time, a couple of days a week, and on weekends. What about you guys?"
Darius and I told our life stories.
"Wow, and I thought I was mixed being half African-American and half Nigerian," Kevin laughed, after hearing about my family tree.
"How come you didn't wind up with a Nigerian first name?" I asked.
"I did. Kevin is my middle name. My real first name is Chukwumeziauzo, Uzo for short. It means, `God, straighten my path' in the Igbo language."
"I don't think God listened, `cause you're sure as hell not straight," Darius joked.
"That's for sure. Wanna head up to my room?"
Darius grabbed my hand and we walked up the stairs to Kevin's bedroom. It was neatly organized with a laptop at a small desk, a dresser, and a double bed.
Darius and I grabbed Kevin and I peeled off his t-shirt to reveal impressive washboard abs and toned pecs. Nearly as hairless as me. I got to work licking a nipple while Darius gave Kevin a kiss.
After a minute or so, Kevin pulled back and said, "You're a great kisser. Now let me see you both naked."
Darius and I peeled off the layers of clothing we were wearing, stripping down to our underwear.
"Fuck! You guys are built."
"We didn't mention that I'm a gymnast and Darius is a wrestler?"
"No shit. Awesome. I was a swimmer in high school. Not good enough to make a college team, but I still like to swim at the gym at school. Now let me see what you've got stuffed into those packages."
Darius and I slowly slid our underpants down, his 8" cock springing forth as his underwear passed mid-thigh. I kept going, and going, revealing more of the monster until, just as the elastic waistband passed above my knees, the beast sprang out of its cage and bounced around in the air, ready for its first victim.
I could hear Kevin gulp, then his mouth just hung open for a second.
"Oh...my...God. Darius, you weren't kidding. What a cock! I mean, yours is really nice, too, but Jaime, yours is a `once in a lifetime' one."
"Let's see what you've got," I said.
Kevin slid off his gym shorts to reveal a jet-black, very thick, very curved, uncut cock nearly 9" (23cm) long. His egg-sized balls were tucked up tightly into his sack. Kevin had shaved smooth. The tip of his cockhead was peeking out from his foreskin and was already leaking pre-cum.
"Not exactly a breakfast sausage either," I laughed. "Can I suck it?"
Kevin grabbed his cock and waved it around in a "come and get it" gesture.
I didn't need to be told twice and got on my knees to get to work. Kevin's skin was silky smooth and his foreskin slid back and forth easily over his fat cockhead. While Darius got back to kissing, I leaned over and took Kevin's tool into my mouth, slicking it up with my saliva, then stroking it near the base as I ran my tongue under his prepuce.
Getting this big boy down my gullet was going to prove challenging. But hey, I'm always up for a challenge. I worked up as much saliva as I could into my mouth to get Kevin as wet as possible, then adjusted my angle to match his distinctive left-handed curve. Open wide, Jaime.
It took some pushing, but I managed to get the XL head past my tonsils and down my throat. I heard Kevin moan as my extra effort apparently was paying off. Darius and Kevin were still kissing, as Kevin reached down to grab a hold of Darius's hard, brown meat.
After a few minutes of hard work on Kevin's oversized boomerang, my jaw was starting to get tired and I was getting a little short of breath. I stood up so that Darius could take my place but Kevin dropped to his knees and started mouth-to-mouth on the anaconda instead.
"If there was a Hall of Fame of Cock, you'd be the first inductee, man," Kevin laughed. I'd maybe expect to see this on some dude who was like 6'6" tall, but on a little guy like you, fuck!" Kevin's said, his eyes wide in wonder.
"They call him `Tripod,'" Darius volunteered.
"Ain't that the truth," Kevin laughed. "Well, I think you're both just fucking amazing."
Kevin got back to work and Darius and I pulled each other into a deep kiss. My fingers luxuriated in the fur on Darius's chest as his ran through the curls on my head, sending tingles across my scalp.
Kevin definitely had skills in the oral department. I was rock hard and could feel the cum churning in my nuts.
"I don't want to cum yet," I said.
"Can I watch you guys fuck?" Kevin asked. "I think you make a really hot couple and would love to see you go at it."
"It would literally be our pleasure," Darius laughed. "We're both vers. Who do you want to see get fucked first?"
"What??!! You can take that monster up your butt?" Kevin asked Darius in complete disbelief.
"The kid is amazing!" I said. "You won't believe it. Can take it all and then some."
"Get down on all fours, Darius. I want to suck your cock as he fucks you. Also, want a front-row seat to see all...How big are you, Jaime?"
"A little over 11 inches," I replied.
"Yeah, to see nearly a foot of cock disappear up your asshole," Kevin said, with a wide-eyed look of wonder.
With a bottle of lube and the rubbers at the ready, I got Darius slicked up, then slid the condom down onto my waiting dick. Kevin reached down to help spread Darius's ass cheeks apart and to watch in awe as inch after inch disappeared into my boyfriend.
Darius began to moan as my cockhead brushed against his prostate on its way to the nether reaches of his rectum.
Once I was up to my balls in Darius, I began a slow in-and-out that intensified his moans.
"Yeah, Jaime, that's it. Go for it. I wanna feel every fucking inch," Darius purred.
I began to pick up speed and Darius's vocalizations grew louder. Kevin was letting my thrusts push Darius's cock deep into his throat. Kevin's right hand was stroking his own cock, while his left stroked Darius.
Pretty soon, I was pounding away at Darius, who was screaming for more. For a second, I thought about getting Kevin in on the game, double penetrating Darius, but with the thickness and curve of Kevin's prong, I figured it would be more trouble than it was worth. Maybe it was something to consider with Eddie, who was long, but not so thick. A combination of me and Brandon was probably out of the question, way too much cock for any hole to take. I filed it away in my mind for the next time we all got together and got back to slamming cock deep into Darius.
As I got close to cumming, I slowed down and said, "OK, time to switch."
Kevin looked slightly disappointed, clearly loving the show he was watching on the current channel.
"Not to worry, Kevin," Darius began, "you're gonna love what you see next. Jaime, get on your back and throw your legs behind your head."
"I'd be happy to," I smiled.
All slicked up and at the ready for my man's manhood, I took a deep breath and gave a little push to let Darius into me. He looked me straight in the eye and flashed his beautiful smile. I felt my heart melt as my butthole gave way to his pressure.
Kevin looked on, pleased, but not quite at the level of enjoyment he had before. Then, as Darius picked up the pace, I took my cock and aimed it squarely at my lips. I opened wide and, without much effort, got a good six inches into my mouth and down my throat. Kevin's eyes went wide and a huge smile crossed his face.
"Holy shit! Abso-fucking-lutely amazing," he gasped.
Darius leaned in and whispered in my ear, "You are abso-fucking-lutely amazing in every possible way."
Then he got down to the business at hand, using his strong wrestler's legs and furry, perfect glutes to pound deep into me, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. I was sucking and stroking my own cock and loved watching Kevin love watching us as he pounded away hard on his own meat.
"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" Kevin wailed, as rope after rope of white jizz blasted out of his black cock and landed on my chest, face and cock.
That was the last motivation that Darius needed as he let out a scream and slammed his hips against my hole, which by now was clenching on his pulsing cock. I opened my mouth wide so that Kevin and Darius could watch as I shot again and again onto my outstretched tongue as the intensity of this amazing orgasm washed over me.
Knowing that Darius loved to taste my load, I opened my mouth wide for him to see. Without pulling out, he leaned over and took me into a deep kiss, letting our saliva and my cum mix together for him to savor.
Kevin looked as though he'd just gotten back from a vacation in heaven.
"Oh, fuck!" he yelled as he glanced at the clock. "My mom's gonna be home any second."
It was close to 11:00 PM and we needed to get going anyway. Kevin tossed us a box of tissues and I mopped up Kevin's cum from my body. Darius tied up the condom, grabbed the spent tissues, and ran down the hall to the bathroom to dispose of the evidence.
Within five minutes we were out the door and had just walked across the street and gotten into my car when another car pulled up in front of Kevin's house. An African-American woman in hospital scrubs got out and walked up the front stairs.
Darius and I laughed, knowing that our timing couldn't have been any better when a text message notification chimed on my phone. I picked up the cell and saw that the message was from an unknown number, but with a local area code. Nothing but emojis:
🍆🍑🤤 🌮🤮 🤣🤣🤣
Apparently, Asher had now joined the 21st century.
End -- Tripod -- Chapter 33