All My Dreams Pass Before My Eyes
By Jack Lynch
Author's Note: Readers of my past work on Nifty will recognize some portions of this work drawn from other stories. They have been recast here to tell a different narrative. I welcome your feedback. Write to me: jacklynch945@proton.me.
As always, I greatly appreciate Nifty. I hope you'll join me in supporting them so that free expression can continue to be enjoyed by all.
Chapter 23
Bliss.
The next morning.
Carey tried to shake the sleep out of his brain. He sat up, coughed once, and looked at his phone on the night stand. He'd brought it in sometime during the night to shoot some absolutely raunchy pictures of them together. Memories.
"Shit!"
Looking at the time.
"I gotta be at the office in like fifteen minutes."
Randy, awake suddenly, rolled off the bed and stood up.
"C'mon, let's shower. You stink!" He laughed.
Stumbling to the bathroom, they peed together.
Randy flipped the shower on and said, "Get in."
Stepping into the shower stall, Carey let the hot water fall over his face. The shower door banged shut as he turned to find Randy right behind him.
Holding the bar of soap in his hand and smiling mischievously, he said, "Rub-a-dub-dub!"
Standing behind Carey, Randy brought his arms up and lathered up Carey's chest and stomach quickly dropping them to his cock and balls. Not surprisingly, Carey felt himself plumping up in spite of the fact that his cock was sore and sensitive. After a moment, Randy's hands went to Carey's back. After a good scrub to his shoulders, he dropped his hands quickly to his butt cheeks and crack. With the water pouring over both of them, Randy pushed Carey's shoulders against the wall and pulled his hips back. Dropping to his knees, he spread Carey's butt cheeks and lathered up his crack and rectum. In an instant, Randy's tongue was buried deep inside Carey's ass. Carey gasped but was helpless to stop the oral invasion. It felt too damn good!
Just as Carey was wishing it could go on forever, Randy stood up, grabbed Carey's hips, and in one move, thrust his cock deeply into Carey's ass. The combination of hot water, soap, and Randy's priming of his ass with his tongue, left him open and willing. With a soft grunt, he relaxed and embraced the pressure from Randy's cock. Carey squeezed his eyes shut feeling the growing sting inside as Randy thrust in and out, gasping and grunting. He knew he shouldn't feel this way but he loved the violation. Deep inside, he fantasized about being raped. The powerlessness was a rush. The force, the pressure. In less than a minute, Randy stopped thrusting. Carey could feel Randy's cock pulsing as he orgasmed.
Randy stumbled back, his cock falling out of Carey's butt. As he turned around, Carey realized that getting totally fucked out had caused him to lose his own erection.
"Your turn?"
Randy squinted through the water spraying into his face, a soft smile on his lips.
"Really, I've gotta get going."
Randy reached behind Carey, turned the water off, and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and threw another one at Carey. It was silent for a minute. Randy grabbed a tube of toothpaste and a couple of still packaged toothbrushes out of a drawer in the vanity. Carey, a towel modestly wrapped around his waist, watched Randy standing naked next to him. Alternately, they spit into the sink as they brushed their teeth.
Randy's still partially swollen member gently swayed as he moved. He grabbed an expensive looking wood brush made of some exotic wood that held light brown bristles. In two or three swipes his damp hair was almost perfectly in place. Feeling himself stiffen yet again, Carey tried to tamp it down. After orgasming what, five or six times, he couldn't believe another one was possible.
He had to go! The office was supposed to be open now! Pulling himself away, he hurried out of the bathroom and quickly pulled his clothes on. Randy followed, not bothering to put on a stitch of clothing. Carey headed to the front door. Randy went ahead and swung the door open. As he stepped through the threshold, Carey turned to Randy.
Taking Randy's face in his hands, Carey kissed him full on the mouth. Hard.
"Talk later?"
Leaning into the door frame, Randy crossed his arms and gave him that twinkly smile.
"Count on it."
Bell stared down at the email he had just opened, then looked off into the distance. For a moment, he couldn't place the guy.
"Ding Ding," his mother called in her falsetto voice, "pick out a couple of juicy grapefruit for me, will you honey?"
His to-do list had shrunken to almost nothing. Bags were packed and a couple of liquor boxes filled with a few things he thought he might want to have at school. Amongst them, a favorite dildo, some lube, and a blindfold. Even though he still lived at home, the place seemed empty, soon to be a remnant of his former life.
Wheezie was no cook or homemaker. Her sole interest in providing for her family was an obsession with fruit. So, when she asked him to come with her to a fruit stand on the other end of Derbyshire, he couldn't think of an excuse not to go.
He just shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "Aw right," in that quintessential Maine rasp.
"Dear Campbell," the email read, "Perhaps you'd like to come round for some tea before freshman orientation begins. How about Tuesday at 3?" It was signed simply, "W. Day."
Oh, yeah, the professor. Bell smirked. Marti's uncle. He remembered first meeting him briefly at the Smythe Friends fund raiser. Then, that reception at his house after he hooked up with Micah. Ha! That was a day! Speaking of day or, in this case, "Professor Day," he fingered the thumbs up emoticon into the response line with a "sounds good."
On Tuesday, using the excuse that he wanted to scope out his freshman dorm room, Bell drove the forty-five minutes into the city. Instead of parking on the street, he pulled into the half circular driveway in front of the Professor's house. Looking up at the ivy covered walls, he wondered if the building was older than its owner. He smirked to himself. Well, he wasn't that old.
A man opened the door seconds after he used the thick bronze knocker to announce his arrival. White shirt, bow tie, a white apron around his waist.
"This way," he announced as swept his arm up toward the large living room, the same one where the reception had been held almost a year ago.
Professor Day stood in the middle of the room. Bell could hardly contain himself. He was wearing another one of those dark suits with the vest and bow tie.
"I'm so glad you decided to matriculate," he said warmly as he shook Bell's hand. "You remember Dr. Oxydahl, don't you?"
Uh-h-h! Bell sucked his breath in. That creepy guy! Dark piercing eyes.
Oxydahl sat in an armchair, hands folded, one leg stretched out in front of him.
"Nice to see you again, young man," Oxydahl said, extending his hand to Bell, not bothering to stand up.
Bell was directed to a chair facing them. Within a minute, the man who answered the door delivered tea, pouring it into elegant tea cups and handing it around. It was way too hot and, besides that, Bell hated tea, so he just put in on the side table next to him.
The three of them chatted amiably for a few minutes. Bell felt mildly like he was on some kind of an interview, the questions seeming to evolve from the cliched and boring, what courses are you taking kind of thing, to the awkward and personal do you have a girl friend. Or a boy friend, for that matter?
The conversation kind of sputtered out. Professor Day sat hunched forward, his knees spread open, arms dangling between them, his chin down, as he looked at Bell. Dr. Oxydahl, in contrast, sat back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his elbow on one arm of the chair, his fingers resting lightly against his temple, a serious look on his face. That stare!
Winston had certainly been right about this one. Long brown hair just past the tops of his shoulders, shot through with highlights undoubtably bleached from the summer time sun. Long aristocratic nose, thin lips, narrow shoulders. Oxydahl smiled inside at the boy's choice of apparel. A banker's pinstripe button down collar blue shirt, wrinkled khakis, and Topsiders, no socks. So preppy! Narrow hips, a delightful looking ass, the package between his legs out of view. Temporarily.
"So," Oxydahl finally said, "I don't suppose you'd mind showing us a little."
Bell's stomach flipped over. His mouth opened and closed. The request was so sudden, so brazen. What was he supposed to do? Run?
Instead, he gasped, "What?"
"No use beating around the bush, Campbell," Winston said with a smirk. "We know all about boys," a pause, "like you."
It was true, after all. He'd seen it all with his own two eyes from the door to the secret passage into the Billiard Room at his niece Marti's place. The self absorbed way he allowed the two of them to ravish him. At one point, he observed Bell catching a glimpse of his own reflection in a mirror on the wall in the corner of the room. Winston could tell he obviously loved what he saw.
A couple of minutes later, at Oliver's direction, Bell was down to just his boxers. Winston shook his head slowly, marveling at the boy's beauty. Narrow shoulders, lightly muscled arms, smooth chest, and brown nipples. An adorable stomach. The sweep of his lower back resulted in his cute boy butt sticking out just a little.
Even though he was acting as if he was subservient, Oxydahl could tell from the look in his eyes that Bell was in complete control of the situation. This would normally piss him off. He liked their subjects to be compliant or, as he had put it numerous times to his colleagues, just giving in. Campbell, on the other hand, had a brash, almost defiant look in his eyes. What a rush!
One final request, or a command rather, and he was completely naked, standing before the two men. A cute tan line, roughly where his swimsuit covered his privates. Lovely smooth pubic area, cleanly shaven, his thick cock already moist at the tip with pre-cum. He shivered when Professor Day asked him to lay down on the towel he'd placed on the carpet. Reaching down, he grabbed one of Bell's ankles, then the other, pushing his knees up to expose a delightful rosebud underneath his balls.
Bell kept his eyes trained to the ceiling, groaning slightly and squeezing his eyes shut, when something stiff and a little cold was steadily pushed past his anal ring.
On one knee, Oxydahl glanced up at Winston. "Well done."
Bell's orgasm was extremely satisfying. For all three of them.
Whew! Carey tried to catch his breath. He'd finally gotten to work, just twenty minutes late. Denise gave him a disgusted look but he didn't care. Just as he booted up his computer, the first call of the day from a constituent came in.
He felt a warm rush as he recounted the events of last night. Fucked out. It wasn't the first time he'd used that term referring to a night of sex. A flash of memory. Apollo. I wonder where he is, Carey thought. He closed his eyes and shook his head. It was the second time in just a few hours he'd thought of him.
Earlier, around two in the morning, after the last time they did it, he laid naked on his stomach on top of the covers. Apollo flashed into his mind then, too. Randy was next to him. Turning on his side, he started running his hand up and down Carey's butt and back. Curving his fingers deep into Carey's butt crack, his fingers brushed against his asshole.
Annoyed, Carey shook his butt and groaned, "Don't!"
Randy chuckled.
Surveying an editorial in the local newspaper about the Congressman, Carey rubbed his eyes and yawned. Back to business. Rather, back to boredom.
Just then, Carey's phone lit up with a text.
"Hey! Let's go to the lake!" It was Randy.
"What lake?"
"Rents cabin."
"??"
Denise walked out of the office, presumably on her way to pick up the Congressman's mail at the post office. Carey's phone rang.
"So, my parents have a lake cabin," Randy began talking, not bothering to say hello.
"Uh huh."
"Nobody's using it. It's super secluded. Let's go up there for the weekend!"
"Today?"
"Yeah. Like after lunch."
Suddenly wide awake. That sounded like a great idea! Then he groaned.
"I havta work. I'm at work right now, doof!"
"Can you get out of it?"
"Call ya right back."
Carey clicked off. A quick email to the DC office. An almost immediate response. No problem. Almost everyone else was ditching work after noon anyway.
They talked non-stop for almost the entire four-hour trip. Only one pit stop. The weather was spectacular. Bright sunshine, low hanging puffy clouds, deep blue sky. A perfect late summer day.
Traffic wasn't too bad until they hit the more rural two-lane highway about forty miles from the lake. From there, they crept along in an endless ribbon of traffic. Nevertheless, they reached the cabin around 5:30.
Typical of many lake cabins built in the mid-20th Century, the Bergman's place was a relatively modest older wood framed structure. Narrow wood siding, painted forest green, large deck. Except for expansive windows facing the lake, other windows were small and narrow. A peaked roof with moss covered shingles. Large overgrown trees dotted the lake side of the property. An old brick barbecue was on one side of the yard, a newer fire pit closer to the lake. Adirondack chairs and a picnic table. A single aluminum dock. A covered boat lift that hid what appeared to be a sailboat. Neighboring homes were on either side but they were barely visible through the trees and thick undergrowth.
The inside of the cabin had that delightful pine smell. For good reason: all of the walls were lined in knotty pine. Older stuffed furniture, a big brown couch, huge easy chairs, a wooden rocker, dirty white shag rug in front of a well used fireplace. Nostalgia themed prints depicting lake scenes lined the walls. Out-of-date magazines and newspapers were piled on an end table.
Facing the living room, an open kitchen appeared to have been recently updated. Gleaming appliances were bordered by upscale cabinets tastefully finished in complimentary materials to the rest of the house.
Several bedrooms were located to the left and right of the kitchen. They threw their bags into the master bedroom. Clearly, they only needed the one bed.
Carey thought he'd unpack a cooler and two grocery bags of food. Randy had raided the refrigerator at home and stopped at a grocery store before picking him up. He was standing at the sink rinsing off some vegetables when Randy walked in from the bedroom. Stark naked. Startled, Carey's eyes dropped to Randy's cock. It was already at half mast and rising.
"What are you doing?" Carey asked with a smile and a chuckle.
With a twinkle in his eyes, "Wanna go for a swim?"
Randy's bare ass looked damn good as he ran to the end of the dock and jumped off.
"Fine." Carey said out loud to no one but himself.
He went to the bedroom, quickly stripped out of his clothes, and put on a t-shirt and swimsuit. Just after arriving, Carey had discovered an old china hutch in the hallway that had been converted into storage for beach accessories. It was stuffed full of beach towels. Grabbing a couple, Carey walked slowly but steadily out to the yard, casting glances left and right to see if the neighbors were watching.
Walking to the end of the dock, he dropped the towels and pulled his t-shirt off. As he looked out to the lake, Randy's bare white butt was clearly visible as he dove under the water.
Carey held onto one of the moorings and jumped sideways into the water. After the first shock of cold water, it actually felt good. The August sun had warmed the lake temperature.
Treading water, they held hands at first. But, it quickly devolved into a vicious water fight. After a few minutes, they called a truce. Clearly out of breath, they dragged themselves to the dock. Randy climbed up the ladder to the dock first and grabbed a towel.
"Hey! Who's hungry?" Randy asked.
Carey didn't have a chance to answer.
Randy just sauntered away, Carey watching him go, his cute butt waving back and forth. Carey looked left and right. None of the neighbors was visible so he just shrugged his shoulders, and slipped his own suit off.
Grill fired up. Burgers seasoned. Veggies and potato chips set out. Cold drinks popped open.
They both remained naked until evening arrived and it got cooler. Now wearing sweats, Randy brought some firewood over from a bin on the side of the house and got the fire pit going. They sat around on the Adirondack chairs and made s'mores. The conversation was easy and casual.
This was bliss. He stretched his arms high over head and wished upon the emerging stars.
The mosquitoes eventually drove them inside. Carey busied himself getting plates and flatware into the dishwasher. Randy flopped into a chair as he let out a satisfied yawn.
"Hey! What do you think about going for a sail tomorrow?" Randy asked.
"Sounds like a plan, Stan!"
They both laughed.
A few minutes later, Carey was just finishing the last of the dishes when Randy came up to him. Putting his hands on Carey's upper arms and leaning in close behind him, he whispered into his ear.
"See you in the love nest."
After turning off the lights in the living room and doing his bathroom business, Carey crawled into bed next to Randy. Snuggling up against his back, Randy placed his cock neatly between his butt cheeks.
Carey sighed, "Would you just hold me?"
"Sure, sport."
Within a couple of minutes, he could hear Randy's even breathing. He was already deeply asleep.