My First Year with Kevin

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must exit the story now. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers. It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without the written permission of its author.

My other works in the Nifty Archive include Unusual Christmas and Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school, First Mate and Twin Spin in gay/incest, The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters, and From Slave to Houseboy in gay/authoritarian.

E-mail comments are always welcome.

My First Year With Kevin

Chapter 2

Kevin led us to his room. He flipped the spread and top sheet back on his bed, got a towel from the bathroom, and started undressing me. He kissed me several more times, and it took us a while to get each other naked.

We got in bed and hugged and kissed some more. He sucked my nipples, and the feeling was electrifying. I did the same to him, but he stopped me after a few minutes saying he was too close to coming for me to do that any more.

He worked his way down my chest and stomach, and then he took my cock into his mouth. All of my six inches fit perfectly into his mouth, and he licked and slurped and sucked and finally sent me to heaven. I told him when I was about to shoot, but he didn't pull back. When I came, I came with more force and power than I ever had before. When I recovered, I fully intended to do him the same way, but he said he wanted me to fuck him.

He got on his back and pulled his knees up to his chest. His cock was fully hard, and the head was sticking out, completely uncovered. He handed me a tube of KY that was in the drawer of his nightstand, and he told me to lube my cock and to work some into his asshole. I did what he told me to do, and he purred and moaned with pleasure as I lubed him up.

"Okay," he said. "Go for it. Take it slow at first, but once the head of your cock is past the muscles, shove it all the way in."

Again, I listened to the voice of experience. I thought I would come just getting the head in, but it only took a couple of seconds to penetrate him past the ring of muscles. I had read about guys needing to adjust to cocks in their asses, so I didn't do anything right away.

"I'm okay, Matt," he said. "Fuck me. Stick it all the way in and pull back till you're almost out. I'll try to get a rhythm going."

I did as he said. On the second thrust, he met me half way, and, with another thrust, we were fucking. I lasted much longer than I thought I would. The feeling of being inside him was incomparable, and I thought I would come with every thrust. But I didn't. He worked the muscles of his ass to tighten them when I pulled back, and then he let me slide in with less friction.

"I'm gonna come," he whispered. "But don't stop fucking me. I can come more than once. When you feel my ass start contracting, shove all the way in. Otherwise, I might pop you out."

I felt the contractions in a second or two, and I shoved as deeply as I could. He moaned loudly, and his cock shot six or seven spurts of cum on his chest.

"Now don't stop. Don't stop till you come."

I didn't stop. In fact, I speeded up.

"Oh, yeah. Fuck me harder," he said.

I fucked him harder. In another few moments, I felt his ass begin to contract again. I shoved all the way in, and his contractions set me off. He seemed to go into auto-fuck, or something, and he gave me an orgasm that was beyond description. When I had finished coming, he pulled me to him, and I could feel the wetness of his cum on my stomach and chest. He kissed me passionately and hard, playing tongue games in my mouth. I was still in him, and he held me on his chest.

"This is when it feels the closest," he said. "I love having you inside me. It's like you and I are one person."

We stayed that way for a long time, hugging and caressing and kissing. Finally, my cock got too soft and small to stay in him, and it slipped out. I rolled over beside him and looked at this gorgeous piece of manhood next to me. He propped up on his elbow and looked at me tenderly.

"Was it any good?"

"Fuck you," I said.

"You just did."

"You fuckin' well know it was good. You fuckin' well know it was the best."

"I know it was the best for me," he said, "but you've got to tell me if I treated you right."

He was playing, and I knew it. "All right, asshole. It was fucking fantastic."

"Thanks. It was for me, too." After a pause: "You want a cigarette?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

He got up and got smokes, lighter, and an ashtray from his desk. He wiped his cum from his stomach, chest, and ass, and tossed the towel aside. He got back in bed to smoke. We didn't really talk. Then, after we had finished our cigarettes, he clutched me to him, turned off the lamp beside the bed, and we snuggled down for sleep.

We woke up the next morning around ten. We both had raging piss hard-ons. The difference, though, was that the head of his cock was completely covered by his foreskin. I wished, then, that I hadn't been circumcised. His cock looked so good to me, I wanted to swallow every inch of it.

"Come on. Let me show you what that urinal is good for."

He led me into the bathroom, and we stood side by side in front of the urinal. He put his arm around my waist, and the two of us stood there pissing into the urinal. He pulled back his foreskin when he pissed. Even though we were both rock hard, we didn't spill a drop. If I had tried to do that in a toilet, I would have had piss all over the place.

When we finished, he said, "Let's take a shower." He turned on the water. The shower stall was a double, and it had shower heads on either side. I had read countless Internet stories about guys washing each other and making it in the shower, but Kevin seemed only interested in getting clean. He retracted the foreskin of his penis and washed under it really well. That was something I'd never seen before. I noticed, too, that he soaped up his fingers and stuck them up his ass, but it was strictly for hygiene, not sex. He finished bathing before I did. Then he took a can of shaving gel off the shelf and started lathering his face. I had noticed he had a full-face beard, and apparently he had to shave every day. It was a light brown, and I could definitely see it. I shaved every other day or so at that age, but his beard was much heavier than mine--which was unusual for a blond who is otherwise hairless. He shaved pretty quickly without benefit of a mirror. I was amazed he didn't cut himself or miss spots. He had that routine down pretty well.

We got out together and toweled off. He towel-dried his hair, and I did the same. I rarely had time in the morning to blow dry my hair, so I kept it short enough to let the towel take care of it. Apparently Kevin did the same. He combed his hair and used a non-glossy hair spray, applied deodorant, and splashed on some after shave. I did my usual morning routine at my sink. Both of us were buck naked, of course, and both of our dicks were extended a little from the piss-hards we had had earlier.

I followed Kevin into his bedroom, not remembering that I had a room of my own where my clothes were. He started getting underwear out of his drawer. Then he turned to me and said, "Fuck it. Let's stay naked."

"You want to give me a hand with the bed," he asked.

"Sure," I said. I was surprised he made his bed and said so.

"It's just a rule," he said.

"You mean Frank and Denis insist that you--we, I guess--make the beds?"

"They couldn't care less," he said. "They never come up here, so they wouldn't know. I just hate a messy place, though, and an unmade bed, clothes all over the place, books and shit on the floor, open closet doors, that kind of shit really bothers me. I'd hate to bring somebody up here to a pigsty."

I made a mental note to do the same thing. I agreed with him, but up until then I hadn't been all that good about making my bed--or picking up my room, for that matter.

We went downstairs and Kevin put on a pot of coffee. Then he went to the front door and got three copies of the newspaper. When the coffee was ready, we gathered up cigarettes, lighters, two of the papers, and our coffee, and went onto the terrace.

He gave me one of the papers, and he started in on his copy. He seemed to really concentrate on what was in it.

"You read the paper every day," I asked. I hardly ever looked at it in California.

"Got to," he said.

"Why?"

"Well, there's a rule at Colton that every student has to be prepared for what they call 'paper quizzes' in every class, every day. They expect us to be well informed about what's going on, so every teacher has the right to give a pop quiz on something that's in the paper that morning, regardless of the subject. Hell, I've had quizzes on new movies in PE classes and quizzes on sports in English. I guess it's just a habit I have, now. We get three copies so we can all read it at once. I guess now we'll have to get four."

"Does Newton have the same rule," I asked.

"Come to think of it, I've never heard anybody from there say. Maybe not."

In fifteen minutes or so, Kevin went inside and came back with the coffee pot, cream, and sugar. He refilled our cups. The coffee was good, but it was really quite strong. It reminded me of Starbuck's coffee. Kevin lit his first cigarette of the day, finished the paper, and finished his coffee.

It was almost eleven o'clock. We hadn't eaten anything, and my stomach was beginning to let me know it.

"What are we gonna do today," I asked.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Well, right now I'd like to get something to eat," I said.

He grinned. "Me, too. Let's go to Shoney's."

"What's that," I asked.

"It's a restaurant that has a pretty good breakfast buffet. They serve it until two o'clock, so we've got plenty of time."

We got dressed and went to Shoney's. I'd never heard of the place, but it was obviously part of a chain. The breakfast was good, and Kevin and I both got more than our money's worth. Kevin paid the check and gave the waitress, who really didn't do all that much, a nice tip.

Back in the car, I told him thanks for the meal.

"No problem, but we need to talk about money. Frank and Denis left five hundred for you, but they told me to pay for everything like food and entertainment and shit. I usually use a credit card. They'll probably get you one, too."

"Do you get an allowance," I asked.

"Well, not really. My mom had inherited a pretty good bit of money from her grandparents, and half of that went to me in trust. Frank got the other half. I just buy what I want, and the trust pays for it. Frank is the trustee and makes investment decisions, and some accounting firm handles the bills and taxes and paperwork and shit. I never buy anything big, like a car, without consulting him, but basically the money is mine. I should say, the earnings are mine to spend as I want to. I can't touch the principal until I'm twenty-five."

"How much is it," I asked. That was pretty cheeky of me, but I didn't even think of that when I said it.

"I don't know. It was twenty-five million when she died, but it's probably up to something like forty million now."

"Jesus Christ," I gasped. "You have forty million dollars!"

"Well, yes and no. I mean, I do, but I can't spend it. Almost all of the earnings go back into the trust. That's why it's grown so much. On average, I guess I spend about five hundred a month. Sometimes more, but sometimes less. They figure five hundred is what you'll need, too."

My head was reeling from the figures he was tossing around. He and Frank were both multi-millionaires, and he was just as down to earth and ordinary as anybody I'd ever met.

"By the way," he said, "I told you that so you'd know and so money issues between us would never come up. I pay for everything we do together, okay? And please don't tell anybody else about what I told you. Okay?"

"Of course not, Kevin. I won't tell another soul. I swear to God, man." I was dead serious, and I think he knew it.

"Nobody would believe you, if you did, but I'd have to kill you." He said that in a very serious tone, but when I looked at him, with worry on my face, no doubt, he started laughing.

Kevin drove through a commercial section on a large, six-lane highway. "Wanna stop and look at cars," he asked.

"Sure. Whatever."

He pulled into a Mitsubishi dealership. He drove a Galant, so I guess he felt at home there. We looked at the cars, checking out a bunch that were out on the lot.

"See anything you like," he asked.

"I don't see any I don't like. I wish I could get one."

"Well, you're gonna get a car. You might as well get what you want. Frank and Denis will go as high as twenty-five thousand. That's about what mine cost."

"Really?" I was stunned, once again.

"Well, of course. You're gonna need one. I really like my Galant. It's pretty much fully loaded, too."

Kevin's car was a dark green, but the color I liked best was a dark blue.

"You don't have to get it from here, if you don't want to," Kevin said. "One way or the other, you're gonna have to wait till Frank and Denis get home. We can look some more."

We spent the next three hours going up and down the highway, looking at cars. I saw a bunch I liked, but there weren't any I liked better than the blue Galant I had seen earlier.

It was fun just being with Kevin. He was really enthusiastic about the whole process of buying a car, and his enthusiasm was contagious. At some of the places, salesmen would come out to talk to us, but at others we were left alone to wander around. Around 3:30, Kevin said he wanted a cup of coffee. We pulled into a little strip shopping center that had a coffee shop, among other small stores. He got coffee, and I got a coke. We both had large pieces of apple pie to go with them.

When we finished our snack, Kevin said he wanted to check out a tattoo parlor that was part of the complex.

"Have you ever thought about getting one," he asked me.

"Not really seriously. My parents would have had two shit fits if I had come home with one. I think tattoos are cool, though."

We looked around at the designs that were posted on the walls. The place looked very clean and sanitary, not like the tattoo parlors you see sailors going to in movies. Some of the designs were very elaborate, and very expensive.

"This is what I like," Kevin said, pointing to a primitive, almost Celtic, design. "If I get one, it's gonna be one of these."

I liked the design, too. It was simple and very masculine. It was all black but with lots of open space for skin color to show through. It looked like the type that wouldn't blur with age.

"Check this out," Kevin said. He had found a book that had photographs of the artists' work. There was another book that had piercings of various kinds. We looked through it, and we found a picture of a pierced cock. The guy had a ring at the tip, and it looked like it came out the piss slit. It was labeled "Traditional Prince Albert."

"I'll bet that hurts like hell," I said.

"You gotta know it," Kevin replied. "I wonder if you can fuck with one of those things."

"Sure you can," a voice said. Just then a guy who worked there came out into the lobby. "I've got one, and I can fuck anything that's got a hole to shove a cock into." He laughed, and we kind of smiled to be polite.

"Does it hurt," Kevin asked.

"Some guys think it does. Mine didn't. We use a local anaesthetic, so you don't feel anything while we're actually doing it. You've got to lay off sex for a few days, though."

"Do a lot of guys get those," I asked.

"Not too many. I probably do one a week. Sometimes two."

"It looks really cool," Kevin said, "but I don't know about . . . ."

The guy and I laughed at the misery on his face at the thought of going without sex.

I asked the guy about nipple piercings.

"Piece of cake," the guy said. "And they're really worth the effort."

"I told ya, man," Kevin said.

"Why? You got one," the man asked.

"Yeah. And I love it."

"Let your buddy show you what it can do for you," the man said. "And come back to see me when you're ready for one."

"I wanna know more about the ring in the cock," Kevin said.

"Yeah? Like what," the guy replied.

"Can you do it if a guy's got, er, like a skin?"

"You mean a foreskin? Sure. Why, are you uncut?"

"Yeah," Kevin answered.

"They work better with some foreskins than others. I'll check you out, if you want me to," the guy said.

"Okay," Kevin responded. I was surprised as hell at that response.

The three of us went into the room where the guy did his work.

"Take it out," he said to Kevin.

Without a moment's hesitation, he unzipped his shorts and pulled out his cock.

"Jesus Christ, dude. This things a fucking beauty," the guy said. He took Kevin's penis in his hand and pushed the foreskin all the way back. "I ain't never seen a skin this long before. And the head is so big. Man, just looking at this thing makes me hard."

The guy squeezed open the slit in Kevin's penis.

"Oh, yeah. There's plenty of room for a ring. A pretty big one, in fact. Man, you'd look fucking fantastic with a P.A."

He let go of Kevin, and he put his equipment away.

"You guys ever want any work done, come back and see me, you hear?"

We said we would, and we left.

"I couldn't have done what you just did," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Hell, I'd have been hard in about two seconds," I said.

Kevin just shrugged.

The next shop we visited was, for lack of a better term, a sex shop. There were all kinds of things in there, from novelty matches to all sorts of other things. There were several rooms, and we ended up in the gay room.

The first thing I noticed was the amazing array of dildoes. They were of every color and size, and I wondered how a guy could possibly take some of them up his ass. There was a counter of cock rings. Kevin and I talked about them, and we decided to buy a couple. The problem was, what size should we get. We settled on leather ones that had Velcro fasteners, so we could adjust the size to fit. Kevin also wanted a metal one, and he asked the guy how to size them.

"Let your boyfriend try a few on you," the guy said. We picked up four of different sizes, and the man led us into a dressing room kind of affair that had a curtain in front of the opening.

"You know how it's supposed to go on," Kevin asked me.

"Yeah. I've seen pictures." The first one I tried on him was way too small, and I couldn't even get it locked on. I skipped the next largest size, but the next one was also a little too tight. Kevin said it was really uncomfortable. I tried the largest of the four, and it seemed to be just right.

The guy was impressed when we told him which one we wanted.

Then we looked at the butt plugs. They were made out of some kind of jelly-like substance, and we each picked out two. Kevin had told me he already had one, but I guess that was the kind of thing you just couldn't have enough of. Kevin paid the man, and it was thirty-five dollars.

Then we went into the video room. Most of the videos were of straight sex, but there was one whole wall of gay sex.

"Let's get a few of these," Kevin said. It was fine with me. I'd never seen one, and I thought I might be able to learn something from them. He picked out three that looked promising, including one that looked like a kind of training tape. We paid for those and left.

Back in the car, Kevin started playing with his nipple ring. I watched him, and it started making me hard. In a few minutes, Kevin's cock had worked its way under the bottom of the khaki shorts he was wearing, and about half of it, hot and hard, was sticking out. He usually wore briefs, just likeme, but he wasn't wearing any that day. The head was about half-way out of his foreskin. Even though I knew nobody could see inside the car, I was a little embarrassed driving down a busy six-lane highway with Kevin's cock in plain view. Then I realized he was putting on a show to get me hot, and I paid more attention. We drove the rest of the way home with him in that condition.

Half-way home, Kevin said, "Are you as horny as I am?"

"I'm always horny," I said. "And, yeah, I think I am." I popped my own hard cock out from under the leg of my briefs and my shorts. He looked at it and grinned.

We went straight up to Kevin's room as soon as we got home, and we had each other's clothes off in no time. We kissed passionately standing in the middle of the room, and our still-hard cocks dueled with each other. By then, his head was completely exposed, and it was covered with the precum that had been leaking inside it.

For the next hour, we rolled around on Kevin's bed, kissing, hugging, caressing, and sucking nipples. Just feeling him against me sent shockwaves of pleasure through my whole body, and time and again I thought how lucky I was to be where I was at that moment. Kevin moved down to suck my dick, and he worked on me for several minutes while I lay there in ecstasy. Then I realized I could get to his cock, and I started working on it with my mouth. I had sucked Paul off a few times, so it wasn't exactly new to me, but Kevin's dick was longer and thicker than Paul's had been. Plus, there was all that foreskin to contend with. I thought then, as I had before, how unlucky I was to have been circumcised at birth. Kevin gave me a demonstration on my own dick of what I should do, and I followed his lead, step by step. After more time than I thought I could last, I finally thrust forward to let him know I was about to come. He came almost at the same time, and together we slurped each other's cum.

After a few minutes of recovery, Kevin climbed on top of me and positioned his ass right above my cock. I was still rock hard, so I knew it would slide into him easily. The saliva and cum from the blowjob was all the lube we needed, and I glided into him sweetly and smoothly. He rode me carefully, but he speeded up and thrust down harder as the experience became more intense. I could see the look of pleasure on his face. After fifteen minutes of incredible stimulation for me, his ass started to contract. That set me off, and I shot a second huge load into the velvet of his rectum. He fired all over me, and I counted seven distinct bursts of cum.

Without pulling off me, he moved onto his side next to me on the bed. His cum was dripping off me onto the bottom sheet, and we both got some of it on our chests and stomachs. We lay very still, not talking, not moving. In a few minutes we were both asleep, with me still inside him. I was perfectly content to stay like that the rest of my life.

At one point I remember dreaming I was fucking him, and, he told me when I woke up, I started thrusting into him. That woke him and made him hard. We both ended up coming a third time.

When I finally awoke, Kevin was propped up on his elbow, smiling down on me. My cock was still hard and still in his ass. He kissed me gently on the lips, and I thought I could taste some of the residue of my cum in his mouth.

"Fuck me again," he said. I was certainly ready to do it, so I started thrusting. He matched my rhythm, and we both came a fourth time. Four orgasms in a little more than an hour were even too much for very horny eighteen-year-olds, and our cocks both deflated after the last time. There was cum everywhere, and almost all of it was Kevin's. That boy seemed to have an endless reservoir.

He got up and got our cigarettes. We smoked contentedly. Then we cuddled some more, thus smearing the cum to places it hadn't been before.

"Kevin," I said, "when are you going to fuck me?"

"Do you really want me to," he asked.

"Yeah. I know it'll probably hurt, but I really want you in me. I want to know that part of you is as deep inside me as it can get."

"I want to fuck you, too," he said, "but I want to loosen you up some first. Let's get up and take a shower, and then I'll put in one of those butt plugs we bought this afternoon. My cock isn't as long as some guys, but it's pretty thick. I don't want to tear you up, Babe."

I was stunned by what he'd said. He called me "Babe"! I had to know what that meant.

"What did you just call me," I asked.

"I don't know. What? Babe?"

"Yeah. Why'd you use that word?"

"You don't like it? I'm sorry, Matt, I won't use it again."

"Like it? I fuckin' love it! What did you mean by it?"

"It's just a word, man. In New Orleans, jocks use it to refer to a team mates they're really close to. Somebody they care about in a special way. If you think it's too girlish, I won't use it."

"No, Kevin. I really, really like it. Would you call me that in public? I mean, would people think it was queer or something?"

"No. Not at all. I call Dave 'Babe' sometimes. And I've called a couple of other guys that. Chubby sometimes calls me 'Babe,' and he almost always uses it for another friend of mine--Nick Marshall. Old friends call each other that all the time, especially if there's a sports connection between them. Frank calls my Uncle Henry 'Babe.' He ain't my real uncle, and, as far as I know, they've never been anything but good friends."

"I really like that. Can I call you 'Babe'?"

"You fuckin' well better, Matthew, or I'll be pissed." He grinned at me and then kissed me gently on the lips. "Let's get cleaned up. My skin's crackling, there's so much cum on it."

We took another chaste shower together, and, once again, Kevin was very careful about how he washed under his foreskin. I watched him do it, and I was amazed. Afterwards, Kevin inserted the smallest of the butt plugs we'd bought. Going over the part that made it stay in was a little uncomfortable, but, once in, it felt great.

"Are you going to wear one," I asked.

"Why should I? I've had the real thing."

"So we can both think about what's coming for me," I said.

"That's a good enough reason for me," he said. He lubed up one about the size of my dick, and I stuck it in him.

"Try not to fart with this thing in you, okay? You could send it sailing across a room." We both laughed hard at that, but I guessed he was probably right in his assessment of the matter.

After we got the butt plugs in place, Kevin asked me what I wanted to do that night. I was in kind of a party mood, so I asked him if we could go to Bourbon Street.

"You ever been there," I asked.

"Oh, please. Not more than a hundred times. Of course, I've been there. In fact, you need a thorough tour of the whole city. We can't do that tonight, but we've got two weeks. Hell, we've got the rest of the summer, and then some. Let's get dressed."

"What should I wear," I asked.

"Well, I'm wearing a pair of snow white 501 Levi's and a sport shirt with a pocket. These jeans are too tight to try to squeeze a pack of smokes in, and I'll need the pocket to carry 'em. What have you got?"

We went into my room to look at my clothes. Most of 'em were pretty conservative, but Kevin found me some light blue 501's and a Tommy Hilfiger shirt that went with them.

"Oh, and no underwear," he said. "We're gonna wear our cock rings, and underwear will only get in the way. We're gonna be the two sexiest guys in the Quarter tonight."

Kevin put my leather cockring on me, and it really made my package stand out. The jeans he had chosen for me were pretty snug, and the cockring made it stand out like I was packing eight soft inches. I tried to get the metal one on him, but his pubic hair kept getting caught in the clasp.

"No problem," he said. He went into the bathroom and came back with a beard trimmer. He trimmed his pubic hair down to where I was able to get it on him without catching any of it. I expected him to get dressed at that point, but he did something that surprised the hell out of me. He got down on the floor and did seventy-five pushups. Then he went into his closet, with me following like a puppy, and did fifty chin-ups and thirty pull-ups on a bar that was mounted in there. He was a little moist from the exertion, but the exercise had about doubled his size.

"I changed my mind about the shirt I'm gonna wear," he said. He went to his closet again and brought out a black tanktop that was almost too small for him. He dropped to the floor and did a hundred sit-ups. He toweled off again, re-washed his underarms, and applied after shave all over his chest. Then he got dressed.

And, Jesus, what a sight. He looked like a junior version of Mr. Olympia. He finished it off with a pair of black Doc Marten work boots and a pure white baseball cap. His cock was clearly visible through the white Levi's, and his tan, which was already very far advanced, made him look like the healthiest thing on the planet.

"One more thing," he said. "I want to put some of this on."

He fished a tube of something out of a drawer in the bathroom, took his shirt off, and started massaging it into every inch of skin he could reach above his belt.

"Help me out and put some on my back," he said, and, of course, I complied.

"What is this shit," I asked.

"It's Sheen. Bodybuilders use it in competitions to make themselves shine without being greasy. It just helps, that's all."

Well, the Sheen was the final touch. If somebody had asked me to describe a god from Mt. Olympus, I would have given them a picture of Kevin. He looked fabulous. I started to get hard, in fact, but I knew that wasn't on the agenda right then.

"Do you go to this much trouble every time you go out," I asked.

"No, Babe, only when I go out with somebody special."

Well that didn't make me walk on Cloud Nine. NOOOO!

Once in the car, Kevin said it was too early to hit the Quarter. Besides, he said, he wanted to eat. I did, too, but I hadn't really noticed, what with so many other sights to take in. We went to a mall, and people of every gender and age stared at us--him, really--when we walked by. We ended up at Ruby Tuesday's. Neither of us had brought cigarettes. I guess it was supposed to be my job, but, hell, I wasn't thinking about smoking when I was watching him get ready. He bought two packs of the brand we both smoked--Marlboro Red--and came back to the table. He had bought a box of cigarettes, which we usually both smoked, for me, and a soft pack for himself. We ate a pretty substantial meal, including dessert, which I almost never got in restaurants. Finally, it was time to go. Kevin settled up and we set out. He stuffed the pack of cigarettes into his right back pocket but left about half the pack showing. Against his white jeans, that really looked hot to me.

It was still too early to go down to the Quarter, Kevin said, so we fooled around in the mall for a while. He wanted to go into a software store to check out what they had gotten in since his last visit. While we were in there, a young man--mid- to late-twenties--came up to him.

"Smythe," he said. We both turned to look at the guy.

"Mr. Burbank. How are you, sir," Kevin asked. "I'm fine, Symthe. I wouldn't have expect to see you in here, though."

"I'm just checking out some software, sir. Mr. Burbank, I'd like you to meet my brother Matt Smythe. Half-brother, really. Same father." As it happened, my last name really was Smythe, too. That was a coincidence Kevin and I had talked about many times years before.

"How do you do, Mr. Burbank," I said, as I shook hands with him.

"Matt just moved back here from California and will be going to Newton next year."

"Oooohhhh. Good school," Mr. Burbank said. "Nice to meet you, Matt."

"Thanks. Nice to meet you." "You said 'moved back,' Smythe. Does that mean you've lived here before, Matt?"

"Well, yeah, I was born here. Lived here until I was eight."

"I see," Mr. Burbank said. Just then another man came up and joined us.

"Hi, Mr. Richardson," Kevin said.

"Hello, Smythe."

"This is my brother Matt Smythe. Matt, this is Mr. Richardson, my English master last year."

Kevin went through the explanation about my moving there from California and about my going to Newton the next year. Richardson had the same reaction Burbank had had. He was maybe late-twenties, early-thirties.

"Sirs, we're going down to the Quarter to check out the happenings. Would you care to join us?"

I thought, what the fuck is he saying?

Burbank looked at Richardson, and Richardson spoke. "Thank you, Smythe, but we have plans already. Maybe some other time."

"Yes, sir," Kevin said. "I hope we can do that some time."

"Well, boys, be careful," Richardson said.

"Yes, sir. We will. Good night."

The two teachers moved away, and Kevin and I left the store.

When we were out in the open mall, I said, "What the fuck was that all about?"

"What are you talking about," Kevin said with a sly grin.

"You know what the fuck I'm talking about. Inviting them to go with us."

"Oh, Babe, that was just ritual. That's New Orleans. You gotta do stuff like that. I knew they wouldn't come with us. But it was the polite thing to do."

"Jesus, Kevin, this is gonna take some getting used to," I said.

"They're a gay couple, and I think Burbank has wanted my ass for a long time. Did you notice the way he looked at me?"

"Yes, I did, and it didn't make me feel real hospitable."

Kevin laughed. "They're harmless, man. They wouldn't fuck a student, no matter how much they wanted to."

"And what was this 'Smythe' shit, and 'sir'?"

"Masters never call students by their first names at Colton. The kids don't either. There are guys I've been in school with for years whose first names I don't know. And the 'sir' shit is what we call them. You will at Newton, too. That's just the way it's done at these high-class schools."

"Well, I can see I'm gonna have a lot of things to get used to," I said. "And what's this 'masters' shit? Aren't they just teacher?"

"Yeah. They're just teachers, but we call 'em masters at Colton. Newton, too, I think. You'll get used to it." He gave me a big grin and ruffled my hair.

We hung out a while longer at the mall, Kevin catching the eye of virtually everyone, male and female, who passed him. I felt really proud of him and proud to be with him.

Around nine, they announced the mall would be closing in half an hour. That was our cue to leave. I had absolutely no idea where we were in relation to the French Quarter, but Kevin, of course, knew precisely where he was going. He had us on an Interstate in no time, and, before I could finish a cigarette, we were exiting it.

I was sure I had been to downtown New Orleans before, but I had no recollection of any of it. Kevin pointed out the Superdome, like I couldn't have figured that out, and a few other sites. We drove down Poydras Street and then down a side street.

"We're gonna park at the Brewery. We'll have to walk a few blocks, but not many. This place is safe, and finding a place on the street is a real bitch."

The Brewery turned out to be a kind of up-scale mall that had been built in a building that used to be a brewery. Kevin said we ought to get to Bourbon Street and that we could check out the Brewery some other time. That was fine with me.

The walk to Bourbon only took ten minutes, but I was fascinated by Jackson Square, the cathedral, and all the old buildings around them. Kevin assured me we'd do a complete and thorough tour of the city in the next few days and that all my questions would be answered.

"Do you really know that much about the city," I asked.

"No, but the tour guide we'll be with will." We both laughed.

When we got to Bourbon Street, I was surprised that it wasn't really a street at all, but a pedestrian mall. There weren't any cars on it, and there were policemen on horses blocking cars that wanted to turn down it. The place was loaded with people, some of whom appeared to have been drinking for some time. We got cold beers in plastic cups from a window at one place, and walked along with the crowd. I was doing the typical tourist rubber-necking, trying to see everything all at once. We passed a couple of strip joints that had barkers outside trying to lure in customers.

"Want to check this place out," Kevin asked.

"Sure," I said.

They let us in without so much as a hint of wanting to see ID. Kevin paid the cover charge, and we got seats at a table and waited for the show. It started in ten minutes, and by then a waitress had been to our table twice to find out if we were okay. The barker had let us bring our beers in, which the waitress said was against the rules. She let us finish them, though.

The show started with a drum roll and a flourish on a keyboard. An announcer came out and explained that the girls would be stripping for our viewing pleasure. We weren't supposed to grab them or molest them in any other way. "And for God sake," he said, "don't nobody jump up on this stage and try to fuck one of them." That got a minor ripple of laughter from the crowd.

I had never been to a strip show before, and, frankly, I wasn't all that impressed. Some of the guys were yelling for the girls to take it off, take it off--like that wasn't the whole point, or something. A few guys put money into the girls' g-strings. One act featured two girls--sisters, supposedly--and they did more than just strip. They rubbed up against each other and kissed. They even stroked each other's pussies. One table of college-age boys went crazy when they did that.

When the show was over in a half hour or so, I asked Kevin if he was ready to go.

"Let's wait a few minutes," he said.

"Why? This place is sleazy," I said.

"I know, but I've got a hard-on, and I don't want to walk out of here with it poppin' out of my jeans. Are you hard?"

"No, Kevin, I'm not. I'm queer, remember? Naked women don't make me hard." I said it kind of sarcastically, but only as a joke. Actually, I was more than a little jealous of those women and of the fact that they could make Kevin hard.

"Babe, I'm sorry," he said, genuinely contrite. "That was a stupid question for me to ask. Forgive me?"

"Yes," I said, in a mock pout. Kevin leaned over and kissed me on the lips, and the frat boys noticed.

"Whoooa," one of them yelled. "What happens next?"

We stood up and walked out, hard-on or no hard-on. On the street, people stared at Kevin even more, and a guy who appeared to be flamingly gay whistled at him. He started twitching his hips back and forth as we walked down the street.

We went into a few novelty and souvenir shops, but nothing really interested either of us. We passed a kareoke bar that looked like people were having a pretty good time in, but we decided to go to the place next door. This one featured male strippers.

Downstairs there were videogames, a DJ, guys dancing, etc. The show was upstairs. We went up there and found a table pretty close to the stage.

"I gotta take a piss," Kevin announced.

He got up and came back about twenty minutes later. "Wow, that place was crowded. Every stall was taken."

"I thought you had to take a piss. Weren't there any urinals?"

"I did have to take a piss, but I wanted to take out that butt plug. It was making my ass feel like I had let fly a wet fart or two, and I didn't want to stain my jeans. How's yours doing?"

"It feels about the same," I said.

"Go take it out," he said.

"What did you do with yours," I asked naively.

"I threw it away. You can't carry it around in your hand, you know."

"Very funny, asshole," I said, and he laughed.

Finally the show started. The women had stripped to g-strings, and, I suppose, the guys did, too--at least in theory. But every single one of them showed his cock, and a couple of the guys were hard. One guy jerked his cock, but he stopped before he came. That made me hard.

Kevin looked at me and winked. "That made me hard, too," he said, as though he knew what I was thinking.

We went up and down Bourbon Street. The people were interesting to watch, but it mostly the same thing repeated in every block. We stopped for a hotdog from a corner vendor, and, while we were standing there getting our food, somebody called out "Smythe." Kevin and I both looked around.

There was a guy on the other side of the street waving at us, and Kevin's face lit into a smile.

"It's my friend Dave," he said. "This is great. I want you to meet him."

Dave came across the street with another guy in tow. Kevin introduced us, and Dave introduced the other guy as Larry, a friend from Florida. I could tell Dave was drunker than we were, but he was still very charming. He said he'd been looking forward to meeting me and had planned to call the next day to see if we could get together. Larry was from Panama City Beach, where Dave's family had a beach house. Dave and Larry had been friends almost as long as Kevin and I had. Dave and Larry got hotdogs, too, and the four of us stood on the street corner eating.

"This shit is starting to get on my nerves," Dave said. "Let's go someplace where we can talk."

"Where do you want to go," Kevin asked.

"Where are you guys parked," Dave wanted to know.

"The Brewery."

"We are, too. Let go to the Napoleon House, then," Dave said.

"Cool," Kevin agreed. We turned down the side street we were near, and Dave and Larry led the way. They were several paces ahead of us, and a group of people who came out of a doorway got between us.

"I think Dave's fucking that guy," Kevin said softly.

"What makes you think that," I asked.

"Well, I know the guy is gay, and Dave told me some of the stuff they used to do when they were younger. Larry's a sophomore in college now, I think, and I'll just bet they're gettin' it on."

"Does that bother you that Dave is fucking somebody," I asked. I wasn't sure where this was leading. I didn't know if Kevin might be jealous of Larry, or something.

"Hell, no. I was just thinking that could lead to some interesting stuff, if you're willing."

"Like what," I asked.

"Like an orgy or something. You know, the four of us."

My pulse quickened a bit. Dave and Larry were both very good looking, and they both appeared to be very well built--like Kevin. I'd been told I was no slouch in the face or body department, and the image of the four of us in bed was pretty exciting.

"I'm game for anything," I said, "as long as you fuck me first."

"Don't worry, Babe. That'll be taken care of." Kevin grinned a devilish grin. I laughed.

The Napoleon House was a nice, quiet bar that played recorded classical music. There weren't very many people there, and it really did seem to lend itself to conversation. We were shown to a table on the patio, and the waiter--a middle-aged man, rather than a kid--asked if we wanted dinner. We just ordered drinks and a platter of nachos with chili.

We made the usual small talk about where we were from, what we were doing schoolwise, what sports we liked. Kevin and I hadn't really talked about sports. I knew he played football and baseball, but he didn't know I loved racquetball and had been on my school's tennis and golf team. The other three guys were golfers, too, so that gave us a common thread of conversation for a while.

After a second drink, we decided to head home. Before we settled up, Kevin and Dave both had to use the bathroom. They came back to the table laughing.

"What's so funny," Larry asked.

"Too long to tell," Dave said. "It goes back too many years."

We walked together to the parking lot and said goodnight before we took off.

"Can you tell me what you guys were laughing at," I asked.

"Sure. In the can, I asked Dave if he was fucking Larry, and he said he was. He asked me if I was fucking you, and, of course, I said yes. I told him what you and I had talked about walking over, and he said he and Larry had talked about exactly the same thing. That was all."

"So, you think something will materialize," I asked.

"I know it will. We have a place across the lake that's real secluded. We're going to go over there Friday and spend the weekend. That gives you and me tomorrow and most of Friday to get your ass in shape for some serious fucking." Kevin put his hand on my thigh and started rubbing it softly. He was making me hornier by the minute.

We got home around one o'clock, but we didn't go straight to bed. Kevin took off his tanktop, cap, and shoes, and I took off my shirt and shoes, too. He made us drinks, and we sat on the sofa in the den snuggling. We kissed tenderly, then passionately, then tenderly some more.

Kevin said, "I was worried about meeting you the other day. I didn't know what you'd be like, but, man, you're perfect. I really like you."

I kissed him tenderly. "I was the same way, and I really like you, too. In fact, Kevin, I think I might be falling in love with you."

He pulled back from me, took a sip of his drink, and lit a cigarette. I lit one, too.

"I know," he said. "I think I might be falling in love with you, too."

"Do you really mean that," I asked.

"Yeah. I do. What's not to love. I mean, you're . . . . Shit, I don't want to get analytical. My girlfriends have always accused me of being overly analytical, and I know that's a fault of mine."

"So what does that mean," I asked.

"That means I try to analyze things too much. You know, come up with seven good reasons why I love you. That kind of shit."

"No, that's not what I'm talking about. I know what being analytical is. I meant, what does it mean if we're in love with one another?"

"Well, I guess it means we care for one another and look out for one another. Spend time with one another. Fuck one another."

"What about other people? Like Dave?"

"Oh, Dave is something else. He's my best friend, blood brother, soul mate, fuck buddy. A guy can only have one Dave in his life."

"Does that mean our relationship is exclusive? We don't have sex with other people? What?"

"I hadn't thought about that. What do you think?"

"Well, first of all, I don't think you're gay. At least not exclusively. I know you obviously enjoy sex with me, and with other guys, too, but, honestly, Kevin, you're not gay. At least not gay like I'm gay. I had a teacher once who explained sexual orientation like a sliding scale. Gay is at one end, and straight is at the other end. Everybody is somewhere between the ends, and some people slide back and forth between the extremes. You're one of those sliders."

"That's real interesting. What else did he say?"

"She," I corrected. "Well, I've thought a lot about that. Our dads are obviously both sliders. Denis and my mom were married for twelve years, and she told me she had absolutely no idea he had any remote interest in men during that time. They divorced for reasons that had nothing to do with sex. Your dad must also be a slider."

"He told me he was never unfaithful to my mother a single time from the day he met her," Kevin said. "He's also been with other women. He told me that, too."

"That's what I mean. I, on the other hand, am gay, and I know it. I am not a slider. I was pretty jealous that you got a hard-on in that female strip show tonight. I wanted to be the only one who gave you a hard-on. Then it occurred to me that you're a slider."

"So, where's all this going," he asked.

"Wait, I'm not finished. We're still dealing with the question of whether we're supposed to be faithful to one another, be with each other sexually exclusively. The second point I want to make is we've only known each other a little more than forty-eight hours. Oh, I know, we've known each other since we were little kids, but we weren't sexual beings then. We are now. When I shook hands with you in that airport, I was meeting a stranger."

"Yeah, I felt the same way. Then I had to act like such a fucking butthole on the way home."

"Forget about that. You've more than made me welcome."

We both laughed.

"The point is, I think I'm in love with you, and you think you're in love with me. Neither one of us knows for sure. How many times have you been in love?"

"Three," he said, "before now."

"Were you really in love with those girls?"

"Well, no, but I thought I was."

"See, Kevin, that's my point. Were you always faithful to them? Did you fuck anybody else while you were with them?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Yeah. I fucked Dave, and I fucked several other girls."

"Did it change the way you felt about them?"

"No, but it made me feel guilty as hell. The other girls. Not Dave. Dave was just buddy-sex."

"And were the other girls more than 'just sex'?"

"No, but they were girls."

"The fact of the matter is, you're a horny kid, and when sex presents itself, you're going to act on it."

He didn't respond.

"And you know what," I continued, "I am, too. I thought Larry and Dave were both really cute, and I'm looking forward to having sex with both of them."

I could see Kevin's mind working through the looks on his face.

"Does that make you jealous? Does it piss you off," I asked.

"You want the truth?"

"Well, yes. The truth would work here."

"You're a sarcastic son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, and you're smart enough to appreciate it."

He laughed.

"The truth is, no, it wouldn't make me jealous or piss me off. Cause you know what?"

"What?"

"I want to, too." We both laughed. When we had finished laughing, he said, "So does that mean we don't expect each other to be faithful to one another?"

"That's basically what it means, but there's another point I want to make. We're both way too young to form any kind of lasting commitment to one another. You want to get married someday and have a family, don't you?"

He looked at me like I was straight off The Psychic Friends Network and had just recited his social security number without ever having heard of him before.

"I've never thought it would happen any other way," he said.

"And I know that, for me, it will never happen that way. We can be in love with one another for the rest of our lives, but we can also be in love with other people. Genuine, real love. I want to always be a part of your life because I love you. An important part. When you do get married, maybe the sex between us will stop, maybe not. But both of us have got to be free to fuck around if we want to."

There was a long pause. Kevin drained his drink and mine, and got up to make us fresh ones. He came back, sat down, and lit up a smoke. After a long pause, he said,

"How'd you get to be so fucking smart?"

We both laughed hard at that one.

"I'm not smart. I'm just analytical."

"That's pretty funny, asshole." Pause. "You know, what you just said makes a whole lot of sense to me. I'm really not the jealous type. I know that Jennifer fucked a guy for about three weeks running, and I really wasn't jealous. I was horny, but I wasn't jealous." We laughed.

"One thing I want to insist on, though."

"What's that," he asked.

"That we be honest with one another."

He kind of cast his eyes down.

"You had some kind of sex in that men's room in the gay bar tonight, didn't you?"

There was a hard, pained look on his face. He looked at me straight in the eyes and said, "Yes. I did. A guy blew me. How did you know?"

"ESP, maybe, or maybe it was the wet spot on the front of your jeans when you came back to the table."

"Were you jealous?"

"Not really. I knew it was pure physical release. You had told me wearing a butt plug made you really horny. You knew I wouldn't want to suck you off in the men's room of a gay bar, and somebody was handy. When you said the stalls were all full, I knew that you were one of the guys filling them."

"But is it always each other's business what we do? I mean, what about jerking off? That's sex. You're gonna want to jerk off, and so am I. Do we have to report every jerk off to each other."

"No, and we don't have to report every time we have sex with somebody else, either. We just can't lie to one another. If I jerk off and you ask me if I did, I have to say yes. I can't say something like, 'Oh, Kevin, I couldn't jerk off without you.' See what I mean?"

"Yeah. I think so. This has made me feel so much better. I really do love you, you mind-reading fucker, you." We laughed.

"Let's get our asses up to bed and your cock in my hole, shall we," I asked.

Kevin responded by leaning over and kissing me for all he was worth.

They say everybody remembers their first time, and Kevin did everything he could to make my first time memorable. He started off by kissing me long and tenderly, exploring my mouth with his tongue and letting mine explore his. He gently lay me on the bed and got down next to me. He kissed and licked my neck and ear, which I was surprised to find was so sensitive, and then he worked his way down my body to my nipples. He really did a good job on them, making them hard and increasing their sensitivity with his tongue and teeth. He sucked them each in turn, and then he moved down to my crotch. I expected a blowjob, but he went straight to my ass.

Kevin had magic in his tongue, I thought, and he worked my hole to the point of ecstasy. He stuck his tongue as deep inside me as he could get it, and my precum started flowing generously. He lubed up his fingers and worked the muscle ring around my anus to soften it and to make it more relaxed. He kept that up for a good half hour, and I thought I was close to bursting.

"I think you're ready to try it," he said. "Are you?"

"God, Babe, I'm so ready I'm about to pop." He smiled up at me, and the look on his face was almost enough to make me come.

He put KY on his cock and on and in my asshole, and he told me to strain down like I was taking a shit when he started entering me. I did as he said. He positioned himself between my legs, and I could feel the wet tip of his cock on my asshole.

"I want you to be in charge of this," he said. "Ease down onto it as fast or as slow as you want. I won't thrust until you tell me to, okay?"

"Okay," I said, but I wanted every inch of him at that exact moment.

I slowly and cautiously moved forward onto him. The head of his cock, which was fully exposed past his foreskin, went in without a bit of a problem, but then it encountered the muscles. I strained like I was trying to take a shit, and that seemed to work. I felt my muscles relax a little.

"Make a conscious effort to relax your ass," he said, and I did. There was so much lube on him and me that the head of his cock passed through the ring without a twinge of pain.

"Let me take over," he said. He slowly eased into me, and I could feel the delicious pressure of his dick on my prostate as he did so. In no time he was all the way in, and he was propped over me on his elbows. He leaned down and kissed me deeply.

"I'm gonna start now, okay?"

"Okay. Do it."

He started slowly at first, and each stroke was like a slice of paradise. He gradually built up speed and intensity, but he never really got crazy. I figured out I wanted to match him stroke for stroke, so I started moving back and forth to meet him. We kept up that rhythm for a good five or six minutes, and the pleasure inside me mounted with each forward thrust. His stomach was lightly rubbing on my cock and balls, and that only added to the pleasure.

"I'm about to come," I said.

"Okay," he said.

We both concentrated on the feelings we were experiencing, and, in a minute or so, I felt my ass begin to contract and my cock to shoot cum on my chest. Kevin groaned and started bucking uncontrollably, and he, too, climaxed. My muscles in my thighs and pelvis felt like Jell-O, and they quivered involuntarily. I felt his do the same thing. He gently lowered himself onto me and kissed me deeply. Then he put his head to the side of my head, and we luxuriated in the afterglow.

Inevitably, his cock softened and slipped out of me. My cum was all over both of us, and I could feel a little of his dripping out of my ass. He wiped us off with the towel that was already pretty stiff with our semen, and then he moved up next to me in bed.

After a long pause, during which I tried to make the glow last, he said, "Did it hurt?"

I started to give some sarcastic answer, but I knew he was genuinely concerned about me.

"No, Babe, it was wonderful."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Not even a little bit. I felt like I was born to have you in me. After we came, the closeness was almost more than I could stand. I love you, Kevin."

"And I love you, Matt. You did it like you were born to it."

"I was, Kevin. I was."

"Let's get up and go downstairs," he said. "I couldn't go to sleep after that, could you?"

"No, I couldn't."

Downstairs, Kevin fixed us more drinks and sat next to me on the sofa. We didn't talk, really. We were just there, with each other. Before I knew it, I was nodding off to sleep. Kevin must have done the same thing because the next thing either of us knew the phone on the table in the den was ringing.

We both woke with a start. Kevin jumped up to answer it.

"Oh, hi, Frank," he said, after saying hello. "No, we're just waking up. In fact, I think Matt might still be asleep.

Kevin was standing there, stark naked with an eight inch boner pointing to the sky talking to his father. His foreskin covered all but the very tiny tip of the head of his cock, though.

"No, we went out last night and didn't get home until pretty late," he said.

Pause.

"Oh, he's a great guy, and we're having a great time." Kevin started jerking his cock when he said that. I burst out laughing, and it was all he could do to not laugh, too.

Pause.

"Well, we stayed up pretty late Tuesday night getting reacquainted. Then yesterday, we went looking at cars. He's found one he really likes. It's a Galant. Like mine, only blue."

Pause.

"Yes, sir. We went down to the Quarter last night. We ran into Dave and a friend of his from Florida. We're thinking we'd like to spend the weekend across the lake, if that's all right."

Pause.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd mind." Pause. "Oh, we'll be careful, don't worry."

Pause.

"Wait, Kevin just came into my room. Let me put him on."

"Denis wants to talk to you," he whispered, handing me the phone. "They're on a speaker phone."

"Hi," I said. "Denis, Frank."

"Hi. Are you settling in," Denis asked.

"Yeah, this is a beautiful place you guys have here."

"The correct pronoun is 'we,' Matt," Frank said.

"Right. We have here."

"Are you and Kevin getting along okay," Denis asked.

"Kevin's like the brother I always wanted. He's a hell of a nice guy." I realized I had said "hell" and immediately regretted it. There was no reaction from their end. "I know I'm gonna be very happy here."

"That's great, Matt," Denis said. "We'd hoped you'd feel that way. Listen, about the car, I trust you and Kevin to make a wise choice. I'll call the office and tell Harriett to take care of everything. You should be able to pick it up this afternoon or tomorrow."

"Wow! You mean it?"

"Well, I don't see why not. Do you, Frank?"

"Of course not," Frank said.

"Oh, wow! I can't believe this," I said. I was really excited, and I'm sure my voice showed it.

Both men laughed with glee.

"Well, Frank and I have to run. You boys take care of yourselves and one another," Denis said. "Tell Kevin to call Harriett in about an hour and find out the details on picking up the car."

"Okay," I said. "And thanks."

"We love you, Matt," they said together. "And tell Kevin we love him, too," Denis added.

"I will," I said.

We all said goodbye, and I hung up the phone.

"Good news," Kevin asked.

I told him about getting the car and about his calling Harriett. He told me she was Denis' secretary and a kind of second mother to him.

"Whoooooa, dude," Kevin said. He looked at a clock on the wall and said, "We better haul ass, Babe. It's almost 12:30."

We went back upstairs, took another chaste shower, and were both dressed and got ready for the rest of the day by one o'clock. We went back to Shoney's for another huge breakfast, and Kevin called Harriett from there on his cell phone when we were finished eating. She told him everything was taken care of and that Matt could pick up his car that afternoon after four.

It wasn't even two when we finished our meal, and Kevin asked me what I wanted to do.

"You're a great teacher, Babe, but I think I need more practice than just last night, don't you?"

"Definitely," he said.

Back in Kevin's bed, we started kissing and hugging and otherwise stimulating one another. We were both half hard by the time we got undressed, and in a matter of moments we were both hard, hot, and wet.

Kevin got us into a sixty-nine position, and we both sucked each other for a while. I didn't know if we should come like that or not, but Kevin wanted to. He flooded me with his jizz, and, in a few seconds, I released mine in a stupendous orgasm. His thick cock, with all that extra skin, really felt good in my mouth. I couldn't take as much of him as he took of me, but I got him off.

Kevin moved up to my face and kissed me all over. He worked my ear some more, and I moaned from the stimulation. I sucked his nipples that time, and I could really tell the effect of the nipple ring on his overall state of excitement. After a while, he moved to my ass. He tongued it as he had the night before, and he inserted a couple of well-lubed fingers into me. He played around in there for a while. It was making me hotter by the second, and I was really afraid I might come again.

He moved quickly, though. He got me on my side and had me raise a leg to better expose my ass. Then he entered me. Oh, God, what a sensation. He put his top arm over me and caressed me, and he worked my ear some more as he fucked me. Then he added nipple work to the combination of pleasures. In a few minutes, though, he took my cock into his hand and pulled back on it, tightening the spot just under the head. That was a new feeling for me, and I loved it.

With thrust after thrust after thrust, Kevin gave his body to me. The whole experience was incredible, and I came in a great torrent. I could feel my ass muscles contract around his cock, and that made him come, too. We stayed like that for a while, both of us still hard. In a minute, Kevin started thrusting again. The sensation was different that time, probably because of the amount of his cum in my ass. He seemed to lean forward a little, and that put his cock into direct contact with my prostate. After twenty-five or thirty of those thrusts, I came again, and, once again, my orgasm triggered Kevin's.

After much cuddling and kissing and stroking, we smoked cigarettes and were ready to get up. I had never felt so satisfied in my whole life.

"We're good together, aren't we," Kevin asked with a grin.

"I don't have anything to compare it to," I said, "but if it got any better, I think I'd pass out from pleasure."

Kevin was playful in the shower, that time. We washed each other's hair and used only our hands to wash the rest of each other's bodies. We both got hard pretty quickly, and Kevin guided my soapy cock to his asshole.

"Put it in," he said. He leaned up against the wall of the shower, and I was able to keep my balance by holding onto his shoulders. I was worried his cock wasn't getting the stimulation it needed, but Kevin took care of that himself. Once again, we came with violent climaxes.

We finished our shower and Kevin shaved.

"You need a shave," he said to me.

"I'll shave when we get out," I said.

"No. Let me do it." He lathered up my face and used his own razor to shave me. He made me sit on the bench that ran the width of the shower stall, and he stood in front of me, his half-hard cock bobbing up and down against my chest.

"Play with it, if you want to," he said. I grabbed hold of it and started pumping. He came just as he was finishing my shave, and some of his cum landed on my crotch.

"Shit, now we have to wash your cock all over again. Stand up." He lathered his hands up and went to town on it. Well, of course I came in a few minutes, too.

"I don't think there's anything left in our balls, do you," he asked.

I grinned knowingly.

"We'll just have to test it out later, I guess," he said. We both laughed.

We got to the car dealership around 3:45, and Harriett was already there. Kevin introduced us, and she seemed genuinely glad to meet me. She was in her mid-thirties, I guessed, and very attractive.

"Well, everything's signed and paid for," she said. "The car's yours, now, Matt."

"I don't have to sign anything," I asked.

"Nope. It's all taken care of. Oh, before I forget, here's your insurance card." She handed it to me. "Keep one copy in the car and the other in your wallet."

I looked at the card, and it said "Smythe and Associates" in the place where my name should have been.

"I don't understand," I said. She knew what I was talking about.

"Oh, the car and the insurance are both in the firm's name. You're just down as the principal driver," she said.

"So I really don't own the car?"

"No, any more than Kevin owns his, or Frank and Denis own theirs. You can do anything you want to with it, except sell it, of course."

"Don't listen to her, Matt. The car really belongs to her," Kevin said.

"Shut up and keep your ass out of this," she said. I wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

"God, Harriett, I love it when you talk dirty to me. You're starting to give me an erection," Kevin said.

She raised her hand jokingly, like she was going to slap him.

"Oh, please do it. You know how I love that," he said.

She burst into uproarious laughter at that line.

"I would sure hate to be your mother, Kevin."

"I'm sure you would. She's dead, you know."

"You little shit," she said, laughing.

"Besides, how would it be for a mother to give her own eighteen-year-old son a hard-on."

She did slap him when he said that, and they both laughed their asses off.

"By the way," she said, "it looks like the thing in Houston is going to take much longer than they had anticipated. They want me and Suzanne out there Sunday night, and they said for us to plan to stay as much as two months. Or more. They want six of the associates to drop everything and go out there in two weeks. They and their secretaries."

"Wow," Kevin said, "this thing must really be big."

"It is," she replied. "It could mean as much as thirty million for the firm."

I whistled softly.

"He's not used to talk about money," Kevin said. "He's very, very poor. In fact, if he didn't wake up with a hard-on on Christmas morning, he didn't have anything to play with all day."

I was a little embarrassed, but Harriett acted like she thought that was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

"Well, there's more," she said, when she had calmed down. "Frank and Denis were supposed to go on vacation starting July ninth, but now they won't be able to go. I tried to cancel their reservations, but they'd lose every cent. They want you two to go, instead."

"Wow!" I seemed to be saying that a lot. "Where to," I asked.

"Greece," Kevin said. "I hate that they won't be able to go. They've really been looking forward to that trip."

"Oh, they'll go," she said, "but it will have to wait until after the case is settled. Kevin, I know you're okay as far as a passport is concerned, but what about you, Matt?"

"I'm okay, too," I said. I had gone to London for a week when I was in the eighth grade, so I had a passport, and it was still good.

"Good. Well, listen, I've got to get back to office and work my ass off for the next two days to get ready to leave Sunday to make lots of money for you two little shits to inherit. I'll leave all the trip stuff with Melanie. It's already all put together in plainly marked envelopes so that even you can figure it out, Kevin. You boys be good," she said.

"We will," we said in unison.

"Yeah. Right." With that she kissed both of us, turned and left.

I took possession of my new car outside on the lot.

"You know, I haven't even test driven it," I said.

"The lady who paid for it did," the attendant said. "She said it was perfect."

"That's Harriett for you," Kevin said. "Don't you just love her?"

"Yeah," I responded, "and I can tell she damn sure loves your ass." He grinned.

I followed Kevin home, then he and I went out for a ride. It really was a great car, and we had fun playing with all the extras. The stereo was very good, and Kevin tested its capacity to the fullest with a couple of CD's he had brought. At Kevin's suggestion, we stopped at a key shop and had some extra keys made. He gave me one to his car, to the house, the garage, and to the house across the lake. I gave him a key to my car, and I had extras made just to have.

Around six o'clock we stopped and got some dinner. It was still daylight when we finished around seven, so we drove around some more. He showed me where Newton was, and I was pretty impressed with the place. It was an old Gothic building out front, but we drove around the block and saw some of the new buildings they had.

"How far is this from home," I asked.

"It shouldn't take you more than about fifteen minutes to get here," he said. "Sometimes the traffic gets pretty bad on the Interstate, but you really don't have to take it. We'll do a couple of dry runs before school starts so you'll know your way."

Then he gave me directions to Colton. I really liked the idea of driving around because I wanted to get to know the city as quickly as I could, and that was the best way to do it. The Colton campus seemed larger, and there were a lot of huge oak trees all over the place. The main building was old, too, just like the one at Newton, but there were also some newer ones. This campus reminded me more of a college than a high school.

"Let's see if you can get us home from here without any help, okay?"

"Sure," I said, knowing I'd be hopelessly lost in no time.

Well, it turned out Colton was only about six blocks from our house, and, with only one suggestion from Kevin, I made it there fine.

"Where do I park," I asked, when we were finally home.

"Go down the back street and into the garage. There's a place for you."

I hadn't really noticed how big the garage was the first time we pulled in, and Kevin had gotten his car and pulled it around front every other time we had gone out. I noticed Frank and Denis each drove Lexuses, which didn't surprise me but was something else I hadn't noticed.

The lights came on as we walked up to the terrace, and Kevin quickly deactivated the alarm.

"You wanna go for a swim," he asked.

"Sure," I said.

Without even going inside, we stripped and dove in. The water was still pretty warm from the day, but it was definitely cooler in places near the water jets that re-circulated the water into the pool. Kevin did some actual swimming, and I swam a few laps, as well. We horsed around, dunking each other, swimming between each other's legs, pulling each other's dicks. The usual guy-stuff.

We got out after a half hour or so to rest and smoke. Kevin went into the pool house and brought out cold beers.

"What's in that place," I asked.

"That's right, you haven't seen it, have you? Come on and take a look." We were both stark naked as Kevin conducted the tour.

The first thing that hit me was that it was thirty times larger than I thought it was just by seeing it on the outside. It was set up almost like a public building. As you walked in, there was like a lobby. There were doors on either side marked "Ladies" and "Gentlemen," which, of course, were bathrooms. In the men's room, there were a couple of urinals, a couple of sinks, and a toilet in a stall. Then there was a door that led into a locker room. There were lockers on one side, shower stalls on the other, and benches down the middle. There was a counter with a couple of sinks with hairdryers and cologne dispensers. Really swanky. There was a small steam room and a sauna off the locker room. He showed me the ladies side, and it had private dressing rooms, kind of like the rooms you try on clothes in stores. There wasn't a steam room or sauna in there, though.

Back in the lobby, a door led into an area that seemed to be set up for parties. To the right, there was a full kitchen, with big stainless steel sinks, three dishwashers, a restaurant stove, a couple of stainless steel refrigerators, and two huge freezers. Occupying the same space on the left was a bar, with a gorgeous carved wood bar piece. The bar opened into a large ballroom kind of place, with nice chairs and love seats all around the edges. This room opened into the garden through three sets of French doors that I hadn't noticed before. This room had another entrance that faced the back street. It, too, had a lobby with two restrooms. They were just standard, though, not like the others. Kevin said they called these the powder rooms.

"Frank and Denis entertain a lot. They've had parties in here for as many as a hundred people for dinner," Kevin said. People come down the back street and park. If it's a really big deal, they have valet parking, and sometimes I get to work as a valet. Hell, I'm driven Mercedeses, Cadillacs, Lincolns. Once, I even drove a Rolls Royce. I swear to God, it gave me a hard-on just sitting behind the wheel. Some people have their own drivers, though, and, of course, they take care of their cars. In fact, the Rolls had a driver, but he let me drive it."

"What do they do, just come and eat?"

"Oh, no. They have drinks and hors d'ouevres before they eat. Usually, one guy is at the front door of the house, and the other one is out here. They greet their guests, you know, bullshit with them. There are usually three bars--one inside, one on the patio if the weather is good, and one out here. That's for the really big parties." They have lots of smaller parties in the house, when it's just fifteen or twenty people."

"Goddamn, you people are filthy rich, aren't you? I mean this is like Hollywood or something. I can't get over this."

"Wait, Babe. You haven't seen it all, yet."

Off the back street lobby was a door, and behind the door was a staircase. It led into a basement. One room of the basement was done up like an exclusive men's club, with two pool tables and leather furniture. Kevin said one of the tables was for pool or billiards, and the other was for snooker. There was another beautiful bar down there; antique, I was sure. Off that room was a conference room, with a table that could seat twenty people, at least. Off the billiard room was a workout room. It had all kinds of equipment and free weights. There was a small locker room, with a steambath and sauna. There was a staircase that led to an outside door from this room. We climbed the stairs and were back out into the yard.

"This is too fucking much, man," I said. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"I know. It's cool, isn't it?"

"Cool! It's a fucking mansion!"

Kevin laughed. "Don't get carried away, man. It's just our house. And that's the party room."

"How often do they use that place? For big parties, I mean?"

"From about the middle of September to May, maybe once a month? I don't know. I really don't keep count. They have a lot of bigshots to entertain, though. That much I know."

"They serve dinner to that many people every month?"

"Oh, no. Usually it's just cocktail parties. Or like at Halloween, they have a costume party. And Mardi Gras. Mardi Gras is a very big thing here, and they're both very involved in that. We will be too, especially as we get older."

"Well, like who do they entertain?"

"People. Hell, I can't remember half of them. I can't keep the partners straight, even, much less all the other people."

"But, wait, now, there's more," he said. He showed me up to the second floor of the 'party room,' and there were six suites of guest rooms.

"Those guest rooms in the house are for relatives, close friends, that kind of stuff. These are for the VIP visitors. They have conferences in this place, too. These places are for the really big shots. We've had Arab princes stay here."

"Let's go sit down so you can explain all this to me. I'm really confused." I looked over at Kevin's cock. It was completely soft, and the head was entirely covered by his foreskin. In fact, the foreskin made a kind of trumpet that was at least half an inch out from the head. I thought that was really hot-looking.

We went back to the pool, and Kevin made us each a drink. He brought out cheese and crackers, too, and a can of cashew nuts.

"All right. Here's the story," he said. "Now pay real close attention because I don't know if I can answer any questions." He grinned, and I laughed.

"My dad and your dad were roommates at Harvard. It was the luck of the fucking draw. They really liked each other, but they were pretty strong rivals, academically, athletically--you name it. They were both smart as hell, and they were both near the very top of their class. They each dated girls from Radcliffe--your mom and my mom--and they ended up marrying them. But that came later. Frank and Denis were both accepted to Harvard Law School, which is really hard to do if you go to Harvard. There were only sixty their year, in a class of like five hundred. Meanwhile, your mother went to law school, too. But not at Harvard."

"That's right. She went to Boston College law school."

"Right," he said. "My mom wasn't interested in law school. In fact, she was only interested in my dad. She got a master's degree in English from Tufts University, which is also in Boston. Then she got a job at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts doing something. I don't know. Meanwhile, our dads were both at the top of their class in law school. They lived together in an apartment in Cambridge, studied together, went out on dates with our moms together. They were best friends, in other words. They were appointed co-editors of the Harvard Law Review, apparently something they rarely do. Have co-editors, that is. They graduated. They got married to our respective moms. They were each best man and maid of honor in each other's weddings.

"You follow me so far?"

"Duh!"

"Fuck you, Smythe. As I probably will later." We both howled at that.

"Okay, your dad got a clerkship with a Supreme Court justice, and he and your mom moved to Washington. Your mom worked for legal aide, or something like that. Is that right?"

"Yeah, that's what's she's told me. I haven't heard the other parts of this before, though."

"Well, my dad came back here and went to work for Smythe and Associates, which his great-great-grandfather had founded. He was fifth generation in that firm, and, believe me, that meant something. Plus, he was smart as hell.

"The family was already extremely prominent. My great-grandfather attended Colton Academy, for example, and that's where all the guys from really prominent families went. He was in the first graduating class, in fact. Anyway, when your dad finished three years of clerkship with the Supreme Court, my dad wanted him to come to work for the firm. It only made good sense. They were best friends, their wives were best friends, Denis is smart as hell, and so on. Plus, my grandfather had known him like ten years at that point. So he hired him as a senior associate. A year later, your dad became a junior partner. Which was a record, I'm told.

"Meanwhile, your mom is working for the local Public Defender. They offered to get her jobs with other firms, but she wanted to make it on her own. And she did good. She was highly recognized as one of the best. A year later you came along, and six months later I came along. My mom hadn't been working in all that time.

"Then my grandfather had a stroke and was dead within three months. My grandmother had cancer, so she wasn't gonna last long. Then my grandparents both died, and my dad inherited the firm. And all of their money. You were amazed at how much I inherited. Well, my dad got about six hundred million."

Kevin lit a cigarette at that point, and I joined him. I was fascinated by that story, and I couldn't wait for him to continue. I made a point of pretending six hundred million dollars is what everybody carries around in his wallet, so as not to appear too naive.

"Did all that money come from the law firm," I asked.

"Oh, hell, no. Do you know what they do," Kevin asked.

"No. I don't have a clue."

"They're oil and gas attorneys. And they're some of the best in the world. Louisiana, and especially Texas, are very oil-and-gas rich, and there are always multi-million dollar cases they have to either settle or try. Ironically, my mom was from Pennsylvania, and her family had made their money in coal. Which is just hard oil and gas. Anyway, things rocked along, and the firm made lots more money. Only this time, your dad got his share.

"The way this firm is set up, my dad is the sole owner. Everything in the place belongs to him. He's the Smythe of Smythe and Associates. Then there are senior partners. Your dad is one of only six of them. Then there are partners, associate partners, junior partners, and associates. They have some kind of formula worked out for who makes how much money, but the senior partners make a whole lot more than the other guys do. But back to the story.

"Meanwhile, your mom is still working part-time with the Public Defender's office. I don't know what happened between them, but I know that eventually she left him."

"I don't know what happened, either," I said, "but my mom always referred to Denis as 'your father, the money-grubber.'"

"Anyway, the money came from investments, as much as from cases. I don't know why our dads continue to work as hard as they do. Hell, they could both quit tomorrow and live like kings. That's none of my business, though."

"This just boggles my mind," I said.

"It did mine, too, until last night. When you talked about sliders on the gay-straight scale, it all came clear. Those two guys have loved each other since they first met when they were eighteen. Almost everybody in town thinks they're half-brothers, just as I've been telling people you and I are. They aren't, of course, any more than we are. But it works socially."

I paused for a long time, trying to figure that all out. Finally I asked,

"Does that mean my dad is a multi-millionaire, too?"

"Well, of course he is," Kevin said. "He so fucking rich, he could buy an island in the Caribbean and blow it up as a Fourth of July celebration, if he wanted to."

"Do you think I have any money--like you do?"

"That I don't know. You'll be very rich someday, and I suspect there's a trust with your name on it somewhere. But, look, man, we're kids. We don't need a fucking thing that they won't give us, so who cares?"

After the story, Kevin made us each fresh drinks. It was almost dark by then, and Kevin moved close to me. He put cushions from two lounge chairs on the ground, and we got down next to one another.

"I've really had fun these last two days since you've been here," Kevin started by saying. "I can't believe I was so goddamned sullen when we first met, but I think that's behind me now. Because of you."

"I've had fun with you, too. This place, and your life here, is so different from what I'm used to, but I think I'm gonna be happy here."

When I said that, Kevin kissed me very gently on the lips.

"Wait a minute," he said, getting up. "I've got to take care of the fucking lights." He went back into the party room building and turned on a small spotlight that enabled us to see one another but that didn't light up the night sky. Then he got back in place.

Once back in place, we kissed again, that time with more warmth and enthusiasm. His tongue circled my lips, and then we sucked each other's faces for ten minutes or more. He ran his hand up and down my chest and stomach, and the gentle caress, which never quite made it to my cock, really felt good. Then he stroked my upper thighs, lightly rubbing my balls with each stroke. He took my penis in hand and stroked it a time or two. Then he sucked my nipples until I was near bursting with pleasure. I wasn't idle during all of that, and I pretty much returned his touches, stroke for stroke.

"I want to fuck you," he said. "But first, I want to get your ass ready."

Without saying anything more, he got between my legs and started licking and tonguing my butthole. It felt wonderful, and I didn't want him to stop. He stuck his tongue inside me, and the thought alone almost caused me to come. After a time, he lubricated his cock with his own saliva, and he slowly and gently eased it into me.

"How's that feel," he asked.

"Ohhhh, it feels wonderful," I said.

"I'm not hurting you, am I, Babe?"

"No, Babe. Not a bit. I can feel the head of your cock on my magic button, and that really feels terrific."

He started thrusting then, slowly, methodically, like he was trying to make every part of my insides as sensitive and as on fire as possible. He leaned forward and kissed me passionately. Then he clamped his mouth onto one of my nipples, while he continued thrusting. He lasted a long time, but I noticed he used technique. He would get us to the point of being about to shoot, but he would stop and rest. When he started again, the intensity increased for me.

"This is the way I like to fuck," he said. "I love to come, but I think this is the way two people really communicate through sex. It's the contact and the softness and the rubbing that does it for me. And, oh, I love the way you fuck."

We continued for quite a while longer. We would both get right to the brink of orgasm, and Kevin would pull us back. Finally, though, I couldn't hold out any longer.

"Kevin, I'm about to come," I said.

"Me, too, Babe. Me, too."

With a couple more thrusts, I went into my orgasm. My ass muscles clenched Kevin's cock, and that made him come. His spasms seemed to last longer than mine, even though I pumped out a huge load onto my chest. Kevin stayed in me for a while, but he didn't lie on top of me, as I thought he would. Instead, he licked up every drop of my cum from my chest. Only then did he withdraw from me and get next to me to cuddle.

"What part of sex do you like best," he asked.

"It's all good with you, man," I said. "I really can't say."

"You look like you like my cock up your ass pretty good," he said. "And I love having yours in me. Some guys are what they call bottoms and only like to be fucked. Others are called tops, and they only like to do it. I think you and I are somewhere between those two, don't you?"

"Well, top or bottom, I love your cock any way I can get it. And, you know what?"

"What," he asked.

"I love you."

He kissed me. Then he looked at me really seriously. "You know, Babe, I love you, too."

We had our usual after-sex cigarette. Then we got back into the pool to cool off.

"Kevin," I said, "I want to talk about your cock."

He laughed. "Well, talk. Tell me how big and firm and juicy it is. Tell me how you love it in your mouth, stretching your jaws, and in your ass, probing you firmly and tenderly at the same time."

"Christ, Babe, you're giving me another hard-on," I said, laughingly.

"So," he asked. "Enjoy it. I've already got one." He grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his tool. Then he took mine in hand.

"Okay, now that the subject is in hand, what did you really want to say about my cock?"

I probably blushed a little, but it was too dark for him to notice, despite the lights in the pool. "Well, I didn't realize that you were, er, . . ."

"Uncut? Natural? Not circumcised?"

"All of the above, although I like 'natural' best," I replied.

"So what about it? Does it bother you that I'm 'natural'?"

"Bother me? Shit, no, man. I fucking love it."

"Do you really? Why?" He was teasing me, I knew, but that line of talk was making me even more aroused than I already was.

"Yeah, I love it. It looks so good. I used to check out the guys at school when I took PE, and some of the Mexican boys were natural. All of them showed at least a little bit of head when they were soft, though. I never saw one hard. But your foreskin is so long and thick. And the head of your cock is so big. I mean, I can see a perfect outline of it through the skin. And those veins! Wow! Talk about hot!"

Kevin smiled, and I knew he was enjoying what was going on.

"Even the guy at the tattoo parlor commented on it, and I'll bet he's seen a million uncut cocks."

"A doctor once told me he had never seen a foreskin or cockhead like mine. He was an old guy who specialized in urology, so he'd probably seen millions."

"Were you sick," I asked.

"No. My regular doctor had given me a physical for football last summer, and he sent me to this other guy. He wanted the other guy to check me out to see if I needed to be cut for medical reasons. Both of these guys are gay and friends of our dads, and I think Dr. Marcum just wanted to let Dr. Hebert check me out for the thrill of it. He played with my skin , pushing it back and forth, back and forth, until I got hard. He kept saying shit like, 'This is perfectly natural, Kevin. Don't be embarrassed.' I wasn't fucking embarrassed, and I knew perfectly well that when somebody rubs the head of your cock through your skin fifteen or twenty time, you're gonna get hard. He said he wanted to take a sperm sample to see if there were any irregularities. He basically jerked me off. I had to come in a beaker to make it look okay, I guess, but I noticed he had a rod sticking straight out from his pants. And that fucker was like sixty years old."

"Jesus, Kevin. That's like child abuse, or something," I said.

"Fuck, I enjoyed it. I wasn't abused. If he had asked me, I'd have jerked him off, too." We both laughed.

"Do you like being uncircumcised," I asked.

"I get teased about it sometimes. I'm the only natural guy at my school. Or at least of the guys I've seen naked."

"What do you say to 'em," I asked.

"Most of the time I tell 'em to fuck off, but sometimes I pull my skin down as far as I can and open it as wide as it'll go. They usually laugh, and I tell 'em I can do things with my cock they've never even dreamed of, or they can stick their head up into it if they want to. That kind of shit. When I'm in a really funny mood, I stick the handle end of my toothbrush up my skin and carry it into the shower like that."

"I'll bet you get a lot of stares."

"Oh, do I. That's how I connected with that dude last night. He pulled up next to me at the urinal trough. I had the skin pulled all the way back so it wouldn't get wet when I pissed. He had his eyes on me the whole time. Then I let the skin go and started shaking off. That really makes the skin a lot longer than it usually is, and the guy got hard watching me. One thing led to another, and he asked me for a taste. I thought maybe he wanted me to piss in his mouth or something weird like that. He meant he wanted to suck me off. So I let him."

"Let's get out. I want to see you pull your skin down and out," I said.

We got out of the pool and wiped the water off each other. We were both dry in a few minutes from the heat. Kevin and I were both still rock hard, and the mammoth head of his cock was fully exposed from my having pushed the skin back. He put his right hand around the base of his cock and pushed the foreskin forward. A huge amount of it protruded beyond the end of his dick.

"Matt, do you know what docking is," he asked.

I looked at him like he was putting me on. "No, what?"

"It's where an uncut guy slides his foreskin over the head of a cut guy, and they jerk off that way," he said. I had read about that, but I really had no idea of how it worked.

"It's really cool. Let's do it," he said.

That was what I wanted to hear.

He took my cock into his hand and positioned the tip of mine touching the tip of his. He pulled his foreskin slowly over the head of my cock, and it went almost half way up my shaft, as well.

"That really feels good," he said. "Does it feel good to you?"

"God, yeah." He started rubbing his foreskin back and forth over my cock, never letting the head of mine be exposed. For extra stimulation, I played with his nipple that had the ring in it.

"I'm gonna cum any second," he said.

"Me, too," I said, and he continued to rub back and forth. In less than a minute, we both climaxed. I leaned into him and he tightened his grip around my own cock and his foreskin. Our cum made the balloon of his skin inflate, but he held on tight enough for us not to lose any. We stood there with a bladder of cum joining us.

"God, that feels good," Kevin said after a few moments.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess that's what foreskins are good for."

He laughed a little.

Neither of us had lost any of our erections.

"Let's do it again. But I want you to do it this time," he said.

I took our cocks into my right hand and started pumping. The liquid inside the balloon made it even better than it was the first time. But Kevin wasn't satisfied with that.

"Play with my nipple," he said. He put his left hand on my right nipple, the more sensitive of the two, and he rubbed and pinched it gently. I thought I was going to faint, the pleasure was so great. It took us a longer time to come the second time, but, when we did, the sensation, for me, at least, was incredible. With our second orgasms, the balloon increased in size with the added cum.

Kevin kept the seal tight as long as he could, but pretty soon we both softened up to the point that we couldn't maintain it any longer. He let it go, and cum poured out of to balloon.

He cleaned us both up with the cummy towel that was at the pool. Then we went inside for the night. It was only around eleven o'clock, so we weren't really ready for sleep. We watched a movie in Kevin's room, lying on his bed in the nude. He fell asleep before it was over, and I only lasted a couple of minutes after the movie finally ended.