Come Christmas Steve
Chapter 31
Cum Shaney, Cum
When Mom called up to me, I checked my phone. It was dead. I rarely used it and almost no one ever called me so I'd forgotten to charge it. I couldn't believe it, Adam finally called back with some news. I rushed downstairs and took the house phone from Mom's hand. "Shane, good news. The case is moved over to Federal Court in Wyoming. You're free of the corrupt prosecutor and the judge with his private vendetta."
"Thank god!" I exclaimed. "And, thank you, Adam. So what's next?"
"I go visit the federal prosecutor assigned to this case and show him all the evidence I want him to see, especially the video of Daniel's deposition. I try to get some sense of where he wants to go with the case and then we will have a better idea of our options. This is good, Shane. Trust me."
"I do trust you, Adam. Thanks." I had no other choice but to trust Adam. But he had never given me any reason not to. He was always there on my side and fighting for me. I'm sure that if I had most other defenders, they wouldn't have put in the same effort. Certainly none who were public defenders.
"You're welcome. I've grown somewhat fond of you. So, as of now, you are not under indictment for a crime. The state's case against you is null and terminated based on lack of jurisdiction and you've met the requirements of your bail. You should be getting full refund of the bail and you are a free man for the moment. That status can change at any time, however. If and when the federal prosecutor decides to pursue the case, he will issue an arrest warrant and you will be arrested by U.S. Marshalls. You will be transported to a federal holding jail near the Wyoming District Court where you will stay until we can have a preliminary hearing and then proceed to negotiating bail terms."
"Wait, are you saying I don't have to be accompanied by my parents everywhere I go?" I asked.
"That's right."
"And, I can leave the state if I want to?"
"You can."
"So I can go visit Steve?"
"You can."
"YES!!!! YES! YES! YES! OMG, I love you! I'm leaving in the morning."
"Hold on, you need to make sure when visiting times are and that you're on his list of approved visitors. I don't want you driving all that way for nothing," Adam cautioned.
"Oh, yeah. Okay. I'll check on that."
"Well?" Mom asked as I hung up the phone.
I broke into a big smile. "He got my case moved to Federal Court. No more prejudiced judge or prosecutor. Can you believe it?"
"You bet I can believe it. I knew the prayer we gave would be answered. It didn't happen like we thought it would but it worked out even better, don't you think?" Mom asked.
"I suppose it did, Mom." I kissed her forehead and she ran off to spill the news to Dad and Whittaker.
As soon as she headed off, I jumped online and checked out the requirements for visiting prisoners at Yankton. I was disappointed to find out that I had to be pre-approved and in order to even get approved, Steve had to put me on his visitor request list. I called the number to the prison only to find out that I was not on the approved list and that they couldn't tell me anything more. Frustrated, I quickly wrote an urgent plea to Steve to get me on the visitor list and to please, please, please answer my letters.
I settled back into my routine of working on the business and waiting on Steve and any further news from Adam.
The following Sunday, we all headed back to church. This time Pastor Nichols' sermon was spectacular. I was moved to tears as he spoke about the immense compassion that Christ had for all of us and the sacrifice he made in our behalf.
"I'm taking my sermon today from the book of Mark, chapter 14," Pastor Nichols said. "It is a moving piece of scripture. It begins with the chief priests and scribes, the political body of the Jews at the time, plotting how they might take Christ by craft and put him to death. They were threatened by him. Not because he made any attempt to overthrow them or physically harm them. On the contrary. He had only preached peace, love and truth. He had gone about doing only good. What they feared was his influence over the people. They feared the diminishing of their power and control. They couldn't' believe that he had no self indulgent motives." That struck a chord with me. I could completely relate.
Pastor Nichols described how Christ had been taken before an illegal assembly of the Sanhedrin and how they had brought false witnesses against him. And Christ would not answer their charges. They smote him and spit on him and accused him with lies. Still Jesus defiantly held his tongue. Until they asked him to deny he was the Christ. Then he simply answered, "I am."
The remainder of his sermon focused on what Christ endured in the garden, the trials and finally the cruel crucifixion. We were all moved by this powerful sermon. There were few dry eyes among the congregation. We sang a closing hymn and after the closing prayer, we filed out solemnly. There was not the usual banter and chatter that took place as everyone filed out. All were contemplating and evaluating their own lives. I definitely was.
Later, back at home, my brother, Tom, called me. I'd had several conversations with him over the course of my defense and it was good to talk to him again. Tom had heard my good news about the change of jurisdiction. He was always encouraging and expressed his love for me. It always made me feel a little better after he called. I expressed my love for him and thanked him again for getting Adam as my attorney. I shared some of Pastor Nichols sermon with Tom, and we discussed the source of our faith in God and both agreed that it had come through our dear mother.
When Wednesday rolled around, Whittaker surprised me by inviting me to go with him and Billy to see the girls. I declined at first, not wanting to be a fifth wheel, but Whittaker kept insisting until I agreed to go. I was glad to be included for a change.
"Let's go!" Billy urged.
"Okay. Just let me finish this one thing," Whittaker answered. He tapped a few more emails out and then put the laptop to sleep. Billy was shifting from foot to foot, horny little shit that he is.
Our first stop was to pick up Jaime from school and then we picked up Shawna from her apartment close to town. The five of us went to a small diner across from the motel where I'd shot my now worthless Daniel video. We ordered milkshakes and a basket of fries and swapped stories.
"So what exactly are you accused of doing?" Shawna asked me after the conversation had settled around my case being moved to Federal Court.
"It's kind of embarrassing," I answered. "I basically got caught naked in the hotel hallway when my door shut behind me while I was trying to get my, uhh, bag of stuff from near the elevator where it fell and then this young boy showed up who was in the room next to me and I was hiding behind a plant but he couldn't get into his room and he obviously needed to pee really badly and so I stepped out to help him get in his room and he saw me naked and then ..."
"Whoa!" Whittaker laughed. "Take a breath, dude." Everyone laughed along with me. Whittaker took over and shared a few more details about how we all got to Yellowstone in the first place and shared a little more information than I would have wanted about why I was naked in the first place, but no one was too shocked by that. By the time I was done, everyone was laughing at the hilarity of the experience.
That is, until I dropped the atomic downer, "It would be really funny if I wasn't looking at a highly probable prison sentence for trying to help a little boy not pee his pants."
That definitely killed the joke, and everyone stumbled through some version of an apology. I deflected and said, "No, it's okay. I mean, it's funny to me too, except for the unintended consequences of it all."
"You know the craziest thing about this whole messed up deal," Billy began. "Is that, of all us boys, Shane was the least likely to ever break a rule or do something illegal. He'd even go the long way around to stay on a sidewalk rather than cut across someone's lawn. It's crazy that he's the one in all this shit."
Shawna switched the conversation to how the founding fathers had a vision for the rule of law in the U.S. and Whittaker jumped right in. Jaime and Billy rolled their eyes and excused themselves. Hand in hand, they ran across the street. We watched as they skipped from the office minutes later to a room. No embarrassment whatsoever in letting us know what they were up to. "Does that bother anyone else?" I asked.
"Me," Shawna admitted. "I think they should be more discreet about it, but I guess it's their lives. They are a good couple, I think."
"Yeah. It's kinda weird how open they are about it. But like Shawna says, it's not my business. I got enough to worry about," I said.
"Live and let live?" Whittaker asked.
"Exactly. You know, they actually did it in the cab of the pickup once when they took me to meet up with that Colt kid who was stalking me," I divulged.
"Colt kid?" Whittaker asked.
"Yeah. I told you about him. He's that Sheriff's son who was practically stalking me because his dad made such a big deal about my case to him. His dad was trying to use me as a 'what not to do' example for his kid about not being gay. Trouble was, the kid thought he might be gay so he started literally stalking me for a while and wanting to know how he could tell if he was gay or not. It was a mess. I finally got through to him to leave me alone. I feel for the kid though. His dad is a screwed up asshole and is heaping a lot of emotional baggage onto poor Colt."
"I remember now. Yeah. So he finally stopped bothering you?" Whittaker asked.
"Yeah. It's a relief. I do wonder sometimes if he's doing okay. His dad hated me. We had to have him banned from our property because of how he was behaving. He's the one who responded when Billy and Jaime had their blowup with her old man."
"That's right. He was an ass," Shawna commented. "I could tell he was a nut case in just the few minutes I was around him."
"He's the poster child for homophobia, let me tell you," I said.
"Why can't people just live their own fucked up lives and leave everyone else alone? Why do they care if someone falls in love with the same sex? What's the rash on their ass over it?" Whittaker asked rhetorically.
"Exactly," I agreed. I finished my banana caramel shake with a slurp. We giggled together as I suctioned up every last drop. "Mmmm, this thing's better than sex. Billy and Jaime could've just ordered another milkshake."
"I'm sure they're doing some shaking, but I hope there's not any milk involved. If there is, I don't wanna hear about it," Shawna joked. We laughed out loud.
Whittaker had been right about Shawna. She was easy to talk to, unassuming, charming, witty and bright. Pretty rare collection of qualities in one person. I felt better about setting him up with her. It was also good to see that the physical contact between them was limited so it wasn't like Whittaker was just in if for a screw. He really liked Shawna for the person she was. I found myself liking her too.
"So, how long do we wait for the kids across the street?" I asked.
"Not too long," Whittaker said. "I think Billy boy has a pretty quick trigger."
That made Shawna snort. She had to spit out a mouthful of her chocolate shake because of the fit of laughter it caused. "No kidding," she laughed. "Jaime told me a couple weeks ago ..."
She paused and looked at us sternly, "You can't repeat this!"
"No," we both agreed.
"Okay, she told me she was glad that Billy could finally hold off long enough to actually put it in. She said he used to lose it sometimes just from her putting the condom on him."
"I'm not surprised. He's a horny shit," I said. "I shared a bedroom with him. It was like a split second between when he'd ask if I was asleep and when he was rushing off to the bathroom to clean up."
"Oh my god," Whittaker said. "Way too much information going on here."
We'd all finished our shakes and were talking about Whittaker's hopes and dreams for my dad's business when the lovers finally came back all showered up and smiling ear to ear. We all avoided any discussion of what they'd done. There was no point teasing them about something they made no attempt to hide. We paid our bill and as we were leaving, Billy stopped suddenly in the door of the diner. "Shane, look!"
"What?" I asked.
"Across the street." I couldn't believe it.
"What's he doing here?" I asked.
"Yeah, right? What is he doing here?" Billy added. "C'mon. Let's go over to those bushes and get a better look."
Whittaker and Shawna wanted to know who we were talking about. Jaime knew right off. I was both curious and a little scared as we scurried across the street once he'd gone inside the office. "It's Sheriff Withers," I explained. "That homophobe we were just talking about. His kid is that Colt kid who was stalking me."
We watched as he came back out of the office and looked around. We ducked lower instinctively but the bushes hid us pretty well. "You think he's checking up on us?" Jaime whispered to Billy. "Do you think he's trying to get us in some kind of trouble for hooking up?"
"I dunno. What the crap for? We're not doing anything illegal," Billy whispered back. "It was consensual, right?"
Jaime hit him. He chuckled softly.
Seemingly satisfied that no one was paying any attention to him, the big Sheriff walked quickly into a side door of the complex.
"C'mon, follow me," Billy said as he rushed off. He sprinted across the parking lot and down to the entrance door at the far end of the building. We followed. I was a bit reluctant. I didn't need any more interaction with that asshole for the rest of my life. At the door, Billy motioned for us to all stay put and he slipped inside using the card key he still had in his pocket after his and Jaime's little adventure. I peered through the glass door as Billy slunk through the corridor to the first set of stairs. He stopped and peered upwards and then disappeared into the stairwell.
A short time later, Billy emerged, shaking his head "You're not gonna fucking believe it."
"What?" we all pried. "What?"
"You're not gonna fucking believe it!" he emphasized.
"WHAT?" we insisted.
"He's hooking up for sex."
"Oh my god. He's cheating?" I asked. "That sucks. His poor wife and kids. If he gets caught, it'll ruin his family. Poor Colt."
"I'll say it will!" Billy confirmed. "Wait until you hear who he's cheating with?"
"Who?" we all asked.
"Do I know her?" I added.
Billy laughed, "I'll say." He was trying to blurt it out but every time he started to, he started to laugh too much.
Billy described what he saw, "Sheriff Withers tapped on the door. I was hiding in the stairwell so I couldn't be seen. Someone peeked through the drapes and then opened the door. It was ..."
"Oh my god, Billy! Tell us! Before I have to hurt you!" I demanded.
"Okay, okay. It was Reverend Lewis!"
"No way!" I said. "No freaking way!"
"Yes way! I'm not kidding. He looked down the hall and then planted an open mouth kiss squarely on Sheriff Withers' lips. The Sheriff pushed him away and scolded him for doing that shit in a doorway.
Reverend Lewis just giggled and before they shut the door. The good Reverend asked if he had his handcuffs with him because it was his turn to be the top. How fuckin' hilarious is that? I actually recorded it." He pulled his phone out and replayed it. We all gasped and then laughed our asses off.
We laughed about it all the way home. After we dropped the girls off, we talked more about it and Billy suggested we should bust him and tell his wife what was going on. "No." I said sharply. "It's not our place to do that. It would ruin his life, not that I care, but it would ruin his family and that's not good.
Colt's got it bad enough without a divorce to deal with."
"How crazy is that? He's this giant homophobe on the outside but secretly he's in a gay relationship with a freaking clergyman," Whittaker mused. "That's truly messed up."
"Not just any clergyman, a whimpering, spineless, homophobe himself. It's all just too damn good to believe," Billy said. "At least I got some video of the asshole, in case he ever tries to fuck with us again," Billy said.
"Just leave it alone, Billy. The last thing I need is that asshole in my life again. Just leave it alone.
Promise?" I begged.
"Okay. Okay. I just can't get over how messed up that all is," Billy said. "Should we tell Dad?"
"Why?" I asked. "What good would that do?"
"I dunno. What harm would it do?" Billy asked.
"I think Shane's right about this, Billy. It's best to just leave it be. Sooner or later he will probably get caught, but it shouldn't come from us. One thing you better consider though, is finding another motel for you and Jaime to use. You don't want to accidentally run into him in the halls."
"Shit!" Billy said. "That sucks. That place is perfect. It's cheap, clean and close to Jaime's house."
"Well, either don't be this late or find another place," I said. We decided it was time to take the girls home and then get home ourselves.
"Damn, I still can't believe it," Billy said as he shut the truck off in our driveway.
I couldn't believe it either. I was even more infuriated over the beating he'd inflicted on me. All his talk about pedophile gays and how I was trying to groom his son just pissed me off royally. He was such a hypocritical asshole. I really did want to ruin him, but not at the expense of his wife and sons. They were innocents. Innocent like me.
That night, I felt good enough to go for a run. I took it easy, but I made a full lap around the ranch alongside Whittaker. Whittaker did two additional ones and that became our nightly ritual. It felt good to run again. I felt like I was healing pretty good and my doctor follow ups confirmed what I'd been feeling. Life was getting good except for one thing. No word from Steve.
Following our run, about a week after our Sheriff siting, I walked out to the mailbox and shouted for joy. "A letter from Steve!" I cried. "I got a letter from Steve!"
Whittaker heard me shriek and turned around. He met me at the porch and followed me in. I waved it at Mom. Dad came out of the workshop to see what I was hollering about as well. "Open it," Mom urged. I was shaking as I tore open the end of the envelope. I pulled the sheet of paper out and was disappointed that it was only one sheet. It was written on both sides at least.
"Now I might not read all of it out loud, because, well, just because," I said.
Whittaker laughed. "Yeah, please. Spare us the mushy crap."
"Dear Shane," I sighed and pressed it to my breast. "Dear Shane, I am sorry I took so long to write you back. I guess they monitor the mail here. So be careful what the hell you write to me, okay. When I finally got your letters, they were all opened and had been sitting in the office for a while. I guess they didn't know they had me here or something. All bureaucracies suck. If I'd known that they didn't have any idea I existed, I might not have bothered sticking around. Lol."
"He is so funny," I said.
I read on, "Plus, I've been trying to get you added to my visitor list so that took a while to figure out too. I have bad news about that."
"Oh no. What is the bad news, I wonder?"
"Read on," Mom urged.
"Yeah, right." I continued. Steve explained, "Non-family visitors have to be approved by the warden or some committee or something. Because of your current legal problem and you being on trial for the Yellowstone incident, you got denied. I can't have you on my list. I'm so sorry. I know how bad you want to visit, but even if your mom escorts you, they won't let you in. I'm so sad over it."
I sunk into the nearest chair and let the letter drop to my lap. "Dammit!" My lip quivered and my eyes stung with emerging tears. "Not fair. Not fair," I moaned.
"But that's over right now. You're not charged yet by the Feds and you're released from the State. Now is your window. Maybe if you tell them that," Whittaker suggested.
"You're right! I'll call in the morning and let them know that the State thing is over with. Maybe that will work. Whittaker, once again, you're a genius."
"Yeah, I know," he feigned modesty. "So keep reading."
"Okay." I read on, "This place is great. I know that sounds crazy from talking about prison, but seriously, I feel totally safe. I can go to the library and read and study and I even get to sign up for some college credit classes in a couple of months. I got a job doing laundry and that gives me something to do and gets me some credit for the commissary so I can buy little things like chocolate to support my habit. The food is decent, not like your mom's by any means, but definitely better than the boys' home was. It's nice to have Todd here with me. It gives us both someone to talk to. Although we have made some friends already." This all made me feel better. All except the part about Todd being his roommate.
Steve continued, "Our roommates are cool. One's an embezzler and the other one is a hacker. Both are totally disinterested in our sexual orientation. They were sort of fascinated in our whole orphanage, sex scandal story, of course, but I mean other than that, they don't care. This place used to be a college and they converted the dorms into cells, but they're more like dorms than cells. The door's deadbolt locking only from the outside is the biggest difference. We have a toilet and showers down the hall that we all share just like back at good old MSU. And yes, the showers are open and you do see each other naked, in case you were wondering and I know you probably were." I blushed a bit.
I read ahead silently. Seeing it wasn't going to get too personal, I read on, "The grounds are beautiful and we get to go outside and walk or jog if we want to. I run every morning and it feels so great to exercise again. There is a weight room that I use also, so in four years, I'll probably look like an MMA fighter or something. They say it gets really cold here in the winter so I'm not looking real forward to that, but I don't want to complain over something that insignificant."
I scanned the last paragraph and decided to keep that part private. "That's about it for public disclosure," I said. "It sounds like he's doing great. I have to call Adam and let him know. He's the one who made sure he got to this place. I can't even tell you how happy I am that Steve is safe and he sounds so happy. Don't you guys think he sounds happy?"
"He does, he does, Shane," Mom agreed. She gave my shoulder a loving squeeze.
"Definitely!" Dad said. "That four years will fly by."
"Three years. It's only three years, Dad," I corrected.
"See there." Dad answered. "Look how quickly a year has gone already." I chuckled at him.
"You and your lame jokes," I said.
"I'm really happy for Steve and for you, Shane. I can see how much relief and peace you feel. That makes me happy too." Whittaker said so sincerely. He stooped down to be at eye level with me and then took my hand. "I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy and I see how happy Steve makes you. We'll get you through your Yellowstone mess and then in a few short years, you and Steve can be happy together."
"You're so sweet. Thanks. Thanks for all you've done. You're the best friend ever. I love you, man," I said with a squeeze of his hand.
"Love you too, dude." He squeezed back and then said, "Now go read the rest of the letter in your room. I know you're dying to."
I smiled "Yeah." I excused myself and ran up the stairs. I shut my door and flopped on my bed.
"I was told by my roommates that they don't monitor outgoing mail, and I think that's right because we put it in a mailbox up by the commissary and a regular mailman picks it up so I think it's safe to write this to you. But you need to be careful what you write back. No more sex stuff or even gay references. I just think it's better not to risk bringing out the bad side of some homophobic guard or staffer here. I know you'll understand." Wow, did I ever understand that.
"I'm really upset that you can't visit. If it were up to me, I'd say Cum, Shaney Cum!!! LOL." That made me laugh so hard. He knew how to make me laugh.
I read on, "I was happy to hear that you think about me all the time. I am glad that you love me because I love you too." I giggled like a lovesick teenage girl.
"He said he loves me," I giggled.
I read on, "But I'm worried about that a little bit. Three years is a long time and the truth is, we hardly know each other. Much of our short relationship was full of aggravation at each other because we had such different childhoods. I just want to say that if it works out between us, that's wonderful, but I can't ask you to keep your life on hold because of me. If you meet Mr. Right in that time, then go for it. If you want to date and satisfy that insatiable need you have for some backdoor action, you have my okay to go for it. I don't own you and I don't want to hinder you." If I was in front of him, I would have grabbed and shaken him hard. How could he think I'd want to find someone else?
I read on, "I've always feared that I would hold you back. You will do great things in life and if I get to be a part of that, then awesome. If not, I hope we will always be friends. Don't take this wrong, please. I'm not saying I don't love you or anything, I'm just being realistic about our situation. Until we can see each other again, you'll be in my dreams. Hopefully, wet ones. LOL, Love, Steve."
I read it over and over. And over and over. I read it upside and downside, inside and outside. I interpreted it in good ways and bad ways and even sideways. What was he saying? Did he have a hidden meaning? Was he just being his overly kind, unassuming self or was he trying to put me off? I knew I could take things wrong easily and I didn't want to do that. I wondered if I should get Billy's opinion of what he was saying. Then I thought maybe I should ask Whittaker. He knew Steve better than anyone other than me. Well, besides Todd. Maybe I could write to Todd and ask him to try and find out what Steve was thinking about our relationship. "TODD!" I said out loud. "Oh my god," I muttered. Todd's the last one I should ask. It really hit me hard. "Steve's sharing a dorm room with Todd and two other guys who don't give a shit what their "sexual orientation" is," I spoke out loud.
I realized that they would be together for three long years. I couldn't even visit. I might get five years or more. Would he wait? He probably wouldn't. I couldn't compete with that. I was fucked. Even if he waited, would Steve even want me after years of prison life? I wondered. If all the stories about beatings and male on male rape of sex offenders in prison were true, I realized that I would surely come out a different person from the one I currently was.
Steve and Todd already had their childhoods in common and the struggles they'd gone through with that. They'd had sex together as young boys. How could I compete with that? I couldn't. Of course he was giving me permission to not wait for him. That way, he could feel justified in not waiting for me. I folded the paper and stashed it in my sock drawer. I was sad, but not despondent. I resolved not to get too carried away until I could write him back and ask for some clarification about his last paragraph. I could ask it in a way that wasn't obvious and he could respond freely.
I called Adam and told him about the letter and the visitation issue. I asked if he could help me with that and he said no. He had no sway in that with the Bureau of Prisons. If that was their policy decision, it was probably final. Still, he suggested I try calling. He was happy that Steve and Todd were safe and that Steve sounded happy. He encouraged me also and warned me that he was meeting the following week with the federal prosecutor and depending on how things went, I'd either be off the hook or get arrested. "I shouldn't say this," Adam began, "I might regret it, but from the feel of my conversation with the federal prosecutor, and the things he said about his conversations with our state prosecutor, I have a positive vibe. Do you kids still say that? Vibe?"
"No. Not really, but I get what you mean. Thanks. I hope you're right."
"Like I said," Adam continued, "I probably shouldn't get your hopes up without knowing for sure, but I really do feel encouraged."
"That's great news. Thanks again for all you've done and for all you're doing. I don't even know where I'd be without you."
"Hmm, I do. I'm glad you're not there and I'm going to keep working hard to make sure you don't go there."
"Thanks. Well, I better let you go. I just had to call and let you know about Steve."
"I'm glad you did. Goodnight, Shane."
"Goodnight, Adam." I said and hung up.
I went back downstairs with a melancholy feeling. I wasn't holding out much hope to go visit Steve. I couldn't help but think that if I could just look in his eyes, those gorgeous, emerald pools that consumed me, I could discern his true feelings. The way he curled his brow over them when he spoke in his melodic baritone nearly hypnotized me. But I'd learned to discern between him saying what I wanted to hear and the rare occasions when he cracked his protective armor and exposed his fractured and delicate soul. Somehow, I needed to visit him.
I shared my conversation with Adam and everyone was excited over his prediction that the federal prosecutor was likely to toss my case. Their exuberance was infectious and I left for bed an hour later feeling so much better about it all myself. I slept well. My dreams were sweet.
"Guess who?" I shouted as I burst through the door.
"Shane? What are you doing here?" Steve asked.
"I'm moving in! I'm your new roomie," I announced happily. "Adam convinced the judge to give me three years here at Yankton so we could be together. Isn't that great?"
"You're kidding me. Please tell me this is a joke," Todd growled.
"Nope. No joke. The judge was willing to forgo a prison sentence and just gave me probation. But I told him that if I could serve in Yankton, I wanted to do the time and make sure I paid my debt to society, and, here I am!"
"Great!" Steve said. "But our room is full. There's no more beds."
"Yeah, overcrowding is a problem. So they're putting a double bed in in place of yours and we get to share it. Isn't that incredible?" I asked.
"Incredible! Yeah, hella incredible!" Steve agreed.
Steve showed me around on my first day and explained all the do's and don'ts to me. I followed like a puppy dog soaking it all in. I met the other roommates and they were completely cool with the idea of me moving in. "No problem," the hacker told me. I'm a sound sleeper so if you two want to do your thing at night, you won't bother me."
"Sweet," I said. Thanks.
"Me either," the embezzler agreed. I'm not a heavy sleeper, but I like to watch." He grinned.
"No problem there either," I answered. "Steve and I have been watched before and it was kind of fun for us. Right Steve?"
"Oh yeah. We like being watched," Steve agreed.
"It'll bother me," Todd grumbled. "I don't like it at all."
"C'mon, dude," the hacker said to him. "Lighten up."
That night, Steve and I stripped naked while the hacker slept and the embezzler watched. Todd lay curled up in the fetal position staring at the wall, his hands over his ears.
We crawled in and pulled the sheet up over us. It had been so long since I'd held my lover and he'd held me. We devoured each other, desperately clutching and grabbing, sucking each other's lips and necks. I was afraid I would have a huge hickey on my neck the next morning. I wasn't sure how I would explain that to the guards.
"Oh Steve, I need you to fuck me. I've needed your sweet dick up my ass for so long," I said. "Do me now! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"
"Yeah, Steve, fuck him hard!" the embezzler said. I looked over and he was on the edge of his bed, stripped naked and stroking a massive dick. His dick was twice the size of Whittaker's and thick as an irrigation tube. He had both hands wrapped around his massive hose and was milking great globs of pre- cum from the bright red tip. "Lose the sheet," he begged.
I pushed the sheet off of us exposing our naked flesh and rolled onto my front, thrusting my ass up for Steve to plunge his sweet meat deeply into my aching cavern. "Fuck me, Steve. Fuck me hard!"
"Yeah Steve, do it!" the embezzler chanted. "Do it. Do it. Do it."
"No, Steve, Don't! Don't do it," Todd begged. "What about me?"
Steve paused and looked over at Todd's pleading, tearful face and I twisted and grabbed Steve by the ear, pulling his gaze back toward me. "Forget about Todd, Steve. You're mine. You'll always be mine and only mine. I'm yours and only yours. I don't care about your past. Let it go. Fuck me. Fuck me, hard.
Make me your mate for the rest of your life. I love you. You love me. Now do it! Do it!"
"Do it. Do it. Do it," the embezzler chanted along with the hacker who had woken up from all the commotion and was now sitting next to the embezzler and helping him stroke that massive, oozing dick of his. Between chants, the hacker would lean over and lick the precum off the tip of the embezzler's dripping dick. "Do it. Do it. Do it," they chanted.
Steve bent down and kissed me tenderly, then he grabbed me by both ears and shoved me forcefully to the bed. He motioned the embezzler over to our bed and scooped up a handful of his oozing precum, which he smeared on his dick and in my hole. Then he placed the tip of his stiff shaft at the entrance of my tunnel and shoved himself deep into my body in one quick, powerful thrust. Taking command, he pressed the side of my face into the pillow with one hand and reached under my chest with the other to begin torqueing on my left nipple while he pounded my ass like a piston in an over-revved Harvester.
"No!" Todd cried.
Suddenly, the door opened and we all froze. We assumed that the guards must have heard us. We expected the worst. Instead, a young boy was shoved through the door, naked and boned. A tall, bald headed Sheriff growled, "Go on you little faggot. See what it's like in prison. Then you'll wish you had listened to me. I'll deal with you in the morning."
It was Colt. He was frightened and quivering.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him.
"My dad caught me with Scott," he cried. "He's teaching me a lesson. He's going to punish me tomorrow but first I have to be in here with you guys."
"Okay, stand over there out of the way then," the embezzler told him. Colt stepped back and watched.
"Do it. Do it. Do it," they all chanted.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" I screamed. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!"
"Do it. Do it. Do it," everyone but Todd chanted again, standing over our bed, furiously stroking the embezzler's massive dick.
"AAARRGGGH!" Steve cried out as he shoved himself so deeply into me that I swore he must have gone completely through me and out my naval. He shook and bounced and cried in primal ecstasy while he filled my ass with his hot cream. The embezzler erupted and showered us in a fountain of thick, hot, creamy cum. Gallons of it. The hacker plunged in and started lapping it up off our sweating, sex wracked bodies. Colt clapped and cheered.
"Cum, Shaney Cum!!" I yelled out in extreme satisfaction as I shot my own massive wad, climaxing just after Steve did. My sticky, warm cum spread between me and the thin sheet beneath.
When it was all done, Steve pulled out and flopped onto his side of the bed. The embezzler and the hacker went back to their side of the room and crawled into bed together. Todd stood up and flipped us off with both hands and then went and crawled into bed with the other two. They stripped him naked and began a three way orgy of their own. Colt asked if he could climb in bed with me and Steve. I said no, but he did it anyway. I protested and made him get out.
I rolled over and began kissing and caressing my lover. My Steve. My Christmas Steve.
I woke up to find myself petting and kissing a pillow. My red plaid boxers were drenched in cum. I was sweating and weak. When the details of the dream began to fade, I quickly grabbed a pad and a pencil and jotted down notes. I wanted to remember it. I wanted to try and interpret it. Dreams, I'd learned in my psychology class, were not idle musings of a semi-conscious mind, but reflections on casual observations stored away and deeply held convictions of one's personality or id. After jotting enough notes to recall the dream, I cleaned up and stashed the soiled boxers in the hamper. They could wait until Saturday when I would do my wash.
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Sorry for the delay in this chapter being posted. I had to do some significant rewriting at the prodding of my editor. All for the best. More to follow.
Hans. h.schreiber@hushmail.com