Jump to content


Author: Author
  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by FlyOnTheWall

  1. FlyOnTheWall

    Family Love

    There may or may not be a surprise in store for you readers regarding Margaret Landrey. Of course, If you read Vic's story, you'll know it's only temporary--if there IS a surprise coming up--which there may or may not be! 😋
  2. THE BARNSTABLE CHRONICLES – Book 6 THE BARNSTABLE COWBOY CHAPTER 3 – Family Love I’m pretty sure I’ve never been this hard in my entire life. Jaime Vega whispered into my ear that he wanted me to fuck him. He wanted to give me the most personal gift he could give anyone—and he chose me! Yeah, this is exciting as Hell—but it’s also scaring the crap outta me. I mean, I don’t know how to fuck a dude! Hell—I’ve never fucked anything! My cock is kinda big, and Jaime’s hole is small and tight. God! I don’t want to hurt him! “What do I do? How do I get you ready?” “You know what to do. Rim me like you always do. Finger me, too—only, after a while, add another finger. And then, a little bit later—add a third finger. That should stretch me out enough.” “How do you know all this?” “Pornhub. Now get your hot-as-fuck ass in gear. I need you, baby!” So I kissed my hot-as-fuck boyfriend before I worked my way down his hot-as-fuck body. I licked up the pre that had gathered in the ridges of his abs. As much as I wanted to suck his cock, I avoided it and moved down to his balls. I pushed Jaime’s legs up, and he pulled them to his chest. I dove my face into his muscled ass and started in with one of my favorite things—rimming him to the point where he’s about to throw a hands-free nut. “Finger me now, Hunter! I need you inside me!” “I put some lube on my index finger and began working it into his tight hole. As I was fingering him, I moved up to kiss him—kisses that were filled with moans each time I added a finger. When I had three fingers inside Jaime, he begged me to make love to him—not fuck him—make love to him. Hearing Jaime say that filled my chest with this overwhelming feeling of love for him. I slide down between his legs, lifted them to my shoulders, and slathered my cock with lube. I placed the head of my cock at his quivering hole, slowly easing it in. Once the head of my cock slipped past his sphincter, Jaime gasped, and his eyes widened. “Oh, wow! Stay right there for a second. It’s so big!” Jaime’s cock wilted a bit and was sitting in a pool of his precum. I scooped some up and fed it to him. “Yours is better, Hunter. You should know that.” He smiled at me and nodded, “Okay—I’m ready. But go slow, okay?” “Whatever you want, baby.” I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe the heat that surrounded my cock as I worked my way into Jaime. I went as slow as I could, but when there were about two inches left to go, he took his legs off my shoulder and wrapped them around the small of my back. This time it was my eyes that got big as I gasped. Using his legs, Jaime pushed me in the rest of the way. I was buried to the hilt inside this incredible boy. “You okay, baby?” “It feels strange because I feel so full. But at the same time, it feels fucking awesome because I’m so full of you! I love you, Hunter!” Jaime started to rock his hips, which caused me to begin moving in and out of his hot, muscled ass. I could feel the firmness of his prostate pass over my cock with every movement—every movement that became longer and deeper as we soon fell into a rhythm that had both of us sweating, panting, and cursing up a storm. “Go faster, Hunter. This is fucking amazing!” I straightened my body, hovering over Jaime with my straining arms just under each of his pits. I began to pick up my pace and was soon slamming into his ass fard and fast! The slapping sound of our bodies hitting was accentuated by the panting and moans coming from both of us. Jaime’s prostate could only take so much pounding, and I’ll be damned if his cock didn’t start throwing his nut all over us—without being touched! Well, that caused his tight ass to pulse around my cock, and the next thing I knew, I was pumping my nut deep inside. Holy shit! There must have been at least ten shots of nut. I’ve never cum so hard—or so much—in my life! I collapsed on top of Jaime and kissed him with all the passion and love I could muster. That was harder to do than I expected since both of us seemed to be in a near-coma. My cock was still buried deep inside Jamie when he let his legs fall to the bed. With our arms wrapped around each other, we both kinda fell asleep in a mutual post-orgasmic haze. Jaime was the first to come back to the world of the living. He whispered into my ear, “For the rest of my life, I will never forget how it felt with you sliding into me for the very first time—and everything after. You made me complete, Hunter. I will love you to the end of time.” Fuck! I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to be crying right then, but dammit! When Jaime says shit like that, there’s nothing else in the world that matters. Nobody has ever said shit like that to me. Hell, no one had ever said they loved me before Jaime did. I started to ease my cock out of Jaime, but he stopped me. “No—I want you inside me as long as possible. I don’t want to let go of this feeling.” “I want you to fuck me next time. I want you to feel what I felt. It’s the most amazing feeling in the world. I can’t even begin to describe it.” “You don’t have to describe it. I could see it in your eyes. And I can’t wait for you to feel what it’s like when the boy you love fills you completely—and makes himself one with you.” We kissed again and fell asleep. A couple of hours later—it must have been 1:00 in the morning when we woke up together. I was still on top of Jaime, and my cock had slipped out of him. I started to pull myself off of him, but that wasn’t going to happen. We were glued together from his nut. Jaime started to laugh and asked what we should do. “I think we need to do the “rip off the bandaid” thing. Ready?” “Yeah—on three.” “One—” “Two—” “Two-and-a-half!” More giggles, by the way. “Three!” Yikes! All I can say it’s a good thing neither of us has any body hair, or it would have been ten times more painful! We got out of bed, hopped into the shower, and cleaned each other. Of course, we both got to the point where we had to stroke another nut out of each other. Ahhh, the curse of being a horned-up teenage gay boy! I’m pretty sure I slept better that night than I ever have. Jaime told me the same thing. We slipped on our underwear, shorts, and a t-shirt and went into the kitchen—following our noses to the smell of frying bacon. Mrs. Vega made waffles and bacon for breakfast. So. Fucking. Good! Life was perfect—until Jaime said he was going to take me home. Fuck! Why couldn’t I just stay here with Jaime—for like the rest of my fucking life?? “I’m going to drive Hunter home this morning. Hunter, I spoke with your mother earlier this morning, and she’s expecting me. I told her I wanted to have a word with her about you. She kept asking if you were being a problem for us. Far from it! And that’s exactly what I told her!” “My mother is very concerned about what people think. It can make me crazy sometimes.” I just shook my head and finished my breakfast. Once we finished eating, I went and brushed my teeth and put my shit in my backpack. The next thing I knew, Mrs. Vega was driving me home. Jaime wanted to come with us, but his mom said it would be best if he didn’t go with us. That didn’t make me worry about what was gonna come down—nope—no worries at all! Jesus! As we turned off the highway and closing in on the house, Mrs. Vega said, “I’m delighted to be meeting your mother, Hunter. Jaime has had such wonderful things to say about her.” “Yeah. Mom treats Jaime like royalty. I just wish she was that nice when it was just me.” “Does she—” “Oh, no! It’s nothing like that. She just doesn’t like me very much.” “Well, that makes no sense! You’re a perfect angel!” I could feel the tears filling up my eyes just as the car stopped. I hopped out as fast as I could and wiped my eyes on my shirtsleeve—before Mrs. Vega could catch me. We walked up to the front door, and I opened it. “Ma, we’re here. Mrs. Vega is with me!” The mother I never knew—the friendly one with the big smile—walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Hello, Mrs. Vega! Margaret Landrey. It’s so nice to meet you!” “Please call me Maria. It’s nice to meet you, too. You have a lovely home, by the way.” “Why, thank you. And thank you for bringing Hunter home. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” “Oh, not at all. Hunter is a dear boy. It’s my pleasure.” “Oh! That’s nice.” “But the main reason I brought him home was that I was hoping that we might get to know each other.” “Oh. Well—there’s not much to know about me. I grew up here in Abilene, and I’m a ranch wife. That’s about all there is. Tell me about you and your family.” Just then, the buzzer on the oven went off. Mom asked me to pull the loaves of bread out. I did just that, released them from the pans and set them on the cooling rack. “My family.” Mrs. Vega smiled, and she began the story I heard from Jaime. “My husband and I have known each other since middle school. We started officially dating in the ninth grade and were a couple all through high school. “My husband owns a landscape company in Abilene—we got married once I graduated from college. Frankie—my oldest son—is the family hero. He signed up for the Army after 9-11. But he’s had a rather difficult time since he’s been back. PTSD—it’s taken quite a toll on him. He’s being treated for it, but sometimes I wonder if the treatment is harder on him than the actual PTSD.” Mom actually looked concerned—but I know she doesn’t give a fuck. “Carlos, my second son, worshiped the ground Frankie walked on. As soon as he finished high school, he couldn’t enlist in the Army fast enough. He—uhm—he didn’t make it back from Afghanistan—his platoon was ambushed by the Taliban while on patrol.” “Oh, Maria. I’m so sorry for your loss.” “Thank you. It was hard—very hard—on the family, especially hard on Jaime. He and Carlos were best friends. My husband and I were so concerned about Jaime’s state of mind.” “But he seems like such a lovely young man.” “He is. But that’s only been in the last several months. My husband and I give credit to his friendship with Hunter. Your wonderful son has helped Jaime feel alive again. Quite honestly, Hunter may very well have saved Jaime’s life.” “Hunter? I—I can’t even imagine.” “It’s true. In fact, Hunter has brought profound joy to our entire family. Even Frankie is happier when Hunter is with us.” Mom turned a gave me a strange look—like I was some kind of alien. What a bitch. “Hunter, why don’t you slice up some of that bread and serve it to us with some butter and jam.” “Sure. Okay.” Good, it gave me something to do while Mrs. Vega started in with what I knew what was coming. “My husband and I are so grateful to have Hunter in our lives, and we were talking the other night. We know your son’s birthday is coming up in a few weeks. We want to do something special for him to show our gratitude.” “Yes?” Oh, God. Here is comes. “Carlos’ truck has been sitting in our garage—unused—for over a year. We want Hunter to have it.” “No. Absolutely not. That’s too much!” Such. A. Bitch! “No, it’s not too much at all. The truck is completely paid off, and it’s just sitting in our garage. Honestly? My husband needs his workspace back. Hunter has had such an extraordinary impact on our entire family—this is just a small way for us to show him our appreciation.” “Hunter’s been giving lessons at the Y so he can save up for a car. He needs to pay for his own vehicle so he can appreciate all that goes into something like that.” Mrs. Vega looked at me and asked how much I had saved so far. “I don’t know exactly—around $3200, I guess.” “Fine. We’ll sell you the truck for $1500. That will leave you plenty for insurance and other expenses.” “No! My husband and I will not allow it.” “Hey! Stop! This is my money. I’ve saved this money for everything you and Dad refuse to get me—things every other kid gets from his parents without question. You don’t have any say in how I spend the money I work my ass off to get.” I turned to Mrs. Vega, “I accept your offer and will bring by a check tomorrow afternoon. Thank you.” “Who’s going to teach you how to drive the damned thing? Your father and I certainly don’t have time.” “Oh, that’s not a problem at all, Margaret. Between my husband and I, we will be more than delighted to help Hunter learn. You won’t have to do a thing.” Oh. Shit. Mrs. Vega’s voice could have cut glass with the way she sounded on her last sentence. Not good—not good at all—especially the way Mom was staring down Mrs. Vega. Turns out that look was not a good idea for Mom. Mrs. Vega leaned over to Mom and got right in her face. “And let me tell you one more thing, Mrs. Landrey. If I ever again see evidence that Hunter has been hit—or smacked—by either you or your husband, I will have Child Protective Services here so fast, your heads will spin. You will lose not only your son, but I’ll do everything in my power to see that your little farm will never again be successful. Capiche?” “It’s a ranch—and I think you should go now. Good day, Mrs. Vega.” “Good day, Mrs. Landrey—and Hunter? If any hand so much as touches you, I want you to pack a bag, walk out the door, and call me. I’ll come to get you immediately. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I think I was in total shock. As soon as Mrs. Vega walked out the front door, I could see the anger rise in Mom’s face. She stood up so fast that the chair she was in flew across the floor behind her. “You ungrateful little bastard! How dare you bring a complete stranger into our family business! What kind of nerve does that woman have to talk about you like you were part of her pathetic little family—one dead son, one half-dead son, and another son who can only find you to be friends with.” That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve always respected my parents—even though I couldn’t stand them. I slammed my hands down on the table so hard that everything on it bounced into the air. “Shut the fuck up, Mother! You wanna know what pathetic is? Look it up in the dictionary—the picture right by the word will be of you and Dad! Pathetic is the little show you put on whenever someone is here to visit—that little performance that ends the minute it’s just you and me in here! “Pathetic is caring so fucking much about what everybody else thinks about you! So much that you won’t even try to take charge of your pathetic life and leave that asshole out there sitting on a tractor and hating you! Noooooooooo! You can’t get a divorce! What will the fucking neighbors think? “I’ll tell you what they fucking think! They don’t waste their time thinking about you because you are so fucking rude and hateful to all of them—just like you are to me—your son—your fucking only son! “Don’t you fucking ever say a bad thing about the Vega family again. I get more love from them in one hour than I have from you in the last ten years. Pathetic?? You wanna see pathetic?!?” I walked over to the counter and grabbed the shiny silver platter Mom was going to use for her next batch of cookies. I put it in front of her so she couldn’t help but see her reflection. “Take a nice, long look, Mother. You’ll see nothing but pathetic!” That’s when it happened. My mother took the platter in her hands and smacked me on the side of my face. “You bitch! You pathetic bitch!” I grabbed my phone and dialed Mrs. V’s number. “Mrs. Vega? Can you come back and get me? I’m going to go pack a bag, and I’ll meet you out front.” Through the tears that were welling up in my eyes, I told my mother that I was going away for a while. She told me I couldn’t leave. I told her to get fucked, and turned to go up to my room. After packing, I went back downstairs. Mom was still sitting at the table. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they don’t call CPS—this time!” I walked out the front door, and Mrs. Vega was waiting for me. That night, Jaime held me in his arms while I cried my eyes out. I was so embarrassed when I told him how my mother really was, and how I had said all those horrible things to her. He held me, running his fingers through my hair, or making little circles on my back with his fingers. The next thing I knew, it was morning, and we were getting ready for school After school, Jaime took me to the bank, and i withdrew $1500 from my savings account. I think Jaime was as excited as I was about getting the truck. I smiled at him and said he was just excited that he wasn’t going to have to haul my ass around anymore. Jaime just smiled and shook his head—and then made me promise that I would fuck him once we went to bed. Easiest promise in the world, I have to say—and both of us were excited as Hell! That night at dinner, I handed Mr. Vega an envelope with $1500. “What’s this, son?” “It’s the $1500 to buy Carlos’ truck—just like Mrs. V and I agreed on.” “I think you must have misunderstood. Maria, didn’t you suggest $15.00?” “Of course, dear. Fifteen dollars is more than fair. Wouldn’t you say so, Jaime?” “Yes, ma’am. Sounds good to me!” “Bu—but—my mother would never agree to that. You saw her!” “I won’t say anything to her. Jaime?” “Nope! Dad?” “Nope—not a word from me!” “I—I—I don’t understand. Why are y’all doing this?” Mrs. Vega got up from her seat and walked over to me. Standing being me, she wrapped her arms around me and said, “Hunter Landrey—you have brought more joy to Jaime than anything has in his entire life. When you give something so beautiful to Jaime, you are also giving it to us. We love you, dear boy. If there’s a way we can make your life a little easier, then we are more than happy to do that for you.” I was speechless—and completely embarrassed as tears ran down my face. Jaime took his napkin and wiped the tears away. “I love you, Hunter. You are the reason for everything good in my life.” He paused and looked up. “Oh, crap. I think I gave my mother a little TMI.” Mrs. Vega squeezed me harder and then pulled Jaime into her hug. “Boys, you might be excellent students. You might even be exceptional swimmers. But, let me tell you something—you are horrible actors. We all can see the way you look at each other whenever you’re in the same room. We all can see the smiles on your faces when you come out of your room in the morning. We can all see that you love each other in an extraordinary way. “It may have been a bit of a challenge for us at first, I’ll be honest. I mean—we’re Catholics and Latinos, and that’s an entirely different set of challenges. But then it hit me—How can God make two such beautiful boys, bring them together, and then not approve of what is probably the purest love I’ve ever seen in my life.” Damn! I’ve never experienced so much love and acceptance in my life! Of course, that made me think about my parents. That’s when the tears started to flow, and soon enough, I was sobbing. “May I be excused, please?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I got up from the table and ran to the bedroom. I threw myself down on the bed, squeezed the pillow under my face, and just let it go. Fuck! How could my life be so good on the one hand—and totally fucked up on the other? About ten minutes later, I was still crying—but not nearly as hard. There was a knock on the door. I knew it wasn’t Jaime—he wouldn’t have knocked—so I shouted out that I was okay. Whoever it was came into the room, anyway. It was Mr. Vega. Oh, fuuuuck! “Son? Hunter? I know this must be so difficult for you. I guess you could say that this family knows as well as anyone how life can throw crap at you. As tragic as some of that crap can be—whether it’s losing one of your children, or losing the love and trust from the people who should be the first to give it to you—God always finds the good and sends it our way. “You’re that good for Jaime and our family. Jaime and the love in this house just might be the good God has found for you. I feel like it’s our job to embrace all the good that’s sent our way—and by all means, let that beautiful goodness push the crap to the side. “You’re so good, Hunter. You’re some of the best good God has ever sent to this family. I know Carlos would have loved you, too. You two are so much alike in so many ways. Hell, he would have given you the truck himself if he could.” It blew my fucking mind that the entire time he was talking to me, Mr. Vega was holding me in his arms. I have never felt anything like that before. While Mr. Vega was saying all that cool shit, it sunk in. I got it. Instead of having some big-ass pity party over all the shit I didn’t have from my family, I get to accept the loving embrace from Mr. Vega and his family—especially Jaime. Mr. Vega took my envelope of money and tossed it onto the bed. “I want you to take the money that you had planned to use on the truck and do something special with it—something that might make a difference in someone else’s life. I’ll make sure there is paperwork that shows you paid for the truck—just to be safe. “Tomorrow afternoon—we’ll get the truck in tip-top shape. Then we’ll get you started on your driving lessons. Sound good?” I nodded my head—which was still buried in Mr. Vega’s chest. “Now—I need to let Jaime in here. He’s so worried about you—he’s worried about you because he loves you, Hunter. We all care about you—because we all love you.” Mr. Vega kissed the top of my head and let me go. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, and he laughed. “You look like mierda, chico. Go wash your face, and I’ll get your boy in here.” “Thanks, Mr. V. Thanks for everything.” “De nada, Hunter. We love you—don’t you ever forget that.” I went into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I looked in the mirror, and Mr. V. was right—I looked like shit! I took care of nature’s call and washed my face with cold water. I found some Visine in the medicine cabinet and washed the red out of my eyes. When I went back into the bedroom, I found the most beautiful surprise! Lying on his back was a totally naked—incredibly hard—totally hot boy. The boy that God sent my way to make everything right.
  3. Thise are MY three faves! We have a lot in common! Hehe
  4. Hayden will make a brief appearance in this book, too. Have to do it because I just love that little nerdboy!
  5. sooo embarrassing! fixed though! Thanks!
  6. THE BARNSTABLE CHRONICLES – Book 6 THE BARNSTABLE COWBOY CHAPTER 2 – Discovery and Revelation For the next few weeks, I kept having all these weird feelings bout Jaime. Hell, there was no way I would say anything—to him or anyone. What would I say? “Hey bud, did you know I think about your naked body every time I slap out a nut!” Yeah, Right. Despite the way I was thinking about him, Jaime and I were getting closer and closer. It’s weird. We’re from totally different kinds of families. We have completely opposite backgrounds. But at the same time, we find ourselves laughing at the same shit. It’s looking more and more like we have the same belief systems. I admire that Jaime’s so confident in himself. Maybe it’s because he’s a year older—I don’t know. But he’s so fucking confident that he’ll throw his arm across my shoulder (which looks funny since I’m a lot taller) and not think twice about it. God help me. I really hope I’m not gay. That would make life and even bigger Hell than it already is in this God-forsaken place. Oh! Jaime and I both made the swim team. I’m surprised I did because when they asked me to do the different strokes, I pretty much made a complete and total ass of myself! They were cool, though. The coaches said they would teach me everything I needed to know. They said they were impressed with my upper body strength and thought I would be a great addition if I could learn the medley events. Yeah, I was a total dufus and said, “What’s a medley event?” The coaches kinda laughed and said that I would learn soon enough. I knew one of the strokes was the butterfly since that was Jaime’s specialty. He offered to teach me how to do it, and we would spend time at the Abilene YMCA. He also helped me a lot with the breaststroke. His weakness was the backstroke, but that was one of the coach’s specialties. I got a lot of help from him. I was a nervous wreck when the first meet came around. I didn’t place. In fact, I didn’t even make it into the finals. I was so freakin’ nervous. I didn’t even come close to my regular times. I had a sit-down with the coach the day after the first meet, and he helped get the b.s. outta my head. The next meet, I made it to the finals and placed third. Even though the coach was happy with my performance, I wasn’t. We had two weeks before our next meet, and I busted my ass. I even went to the river at the back of the ranch and practiced swimming upstream. That was hard as fuck! Not so much because I was swimming against the river’s current, but mainly because the water was cold as shit! The next meet was at Wichita Falls. It was awesome! I won the event four seconds ahead of the dude that came in second place. When the coach asked me what I did different, I told him about the river on the family ranch, and that I spent every minute I could in the cold water swimming upstream and against the current. “Ah—the ankle weights theory.” “The what?” “Next time you see the track team practicing, check out their feet. A lot of the guys have weights on their feet. It’s all about practicing with added resistance, so when they are actually competing in their event, they run free as the birds.” “Yeah. Makes perfect sense to me.” “Well, keep up the good work, son. You keep improving like that, and you’ll earn your ticket to any college in the country.” Yes! I decided right then and there that I was gonna swim my ass straight outta West Texas. The swim team had us on a pretty strict diet during the season. It was a low-fat, low-carb, high protein, high fiber list of “allowed” foods. The only exception was the night before a meet. I loved those nights! Throughout the whole season, we would have a Spaghetti Feast the night before a meet. Every week a group of parents would make enough spaghetti to feed a freakin’ army! It was a great way for the team to bond together—and for the grownups to meet the kids their kids were hanging with. Of course, my parents wanted nothing to do with it—or me. I would complain to Jaime about how my parents—especially my dad—just didn’t give a shit about me. He didn’t see it, though—especially on the bus trip to San Angelo for their Invitational. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your dad, but your mom is always so nice. She always has awesome cookies, she sits and talks with us—I just don’t see it.” “Mom puts on a good show. But when I go back inside after you drive away, the snacks are gone, the dishes are put away, and she disappears unless she needs to check something with dinner. I hardly ever even hear my mom’s voice anymore—at least when I’m home alone.” “What’s with that? Dude—it can’t be you. You’re like the most amazing person I’ve ever met in my life—and I include my brothers on that list.” “Well, a big part of it is that they hate their lives—especially Mom.” “That sucks.” “You see—Mom and Dad were dating their Junior and Senior years of high school. Mom was stunning back then—like model beautiful. She had planned to move to Houston and break into the modeling scene there. From Houston, she was going to move to New York.” “She’s still kinda pretty—I mean, like for an older ranch lady.” “Whatever. Well, Mom’s plans got screwed when she got pregnant two months before graduation. Her parents made her keep the kid and marry Dad. No other options were there for her. So—Mom’s dreams were never even given a chance. “Dad was pissed because he had planned to get serious with the other girl he had been dating once Mom moved to Houston. So Dad resents the fuck outta Mom and me since he didn’t get to end up with the girl he wanted. Mom resents me because I’m the constant reminder of what could have been with her life.” “Wow. I can’t even imagine what that’s like, Hunter. My family’s the exact opposite. There are times I would give my left nut just to be left alone.” “I guess it takes all kinds, huh?” Jaime put his hand on my leg and squeezed it. Now, I know it was just a little thing to show his support. Jaime cares about me. But hey—I’m fifteen years old, and the boy I fantasize over has his hand dangerously close to my dick—and it starts to chub up. Glad I have my Speedo on! I won the medley again. Yay! In fact, I won the medley in every meet for the rest of the season. We went to the state championships in Austin, and I got third place. I wasn’t happy about that, but the coaches were thrilled. I decided two things that afternoon. The first was that I was going to win the state gold for the next three years. The second thing I decided was that I wanted to go to college in Austin. Holy crap! The facilities were like a wet dream! They have everything you could ever dream of—and then a ton of shit you never thought of! About three weeks before the end of our Freshman year, Jaime and I had to do a group presentation thing for our English class. It was for the unit on Greek Mythology. Our topic was about the Ancient Greek Temples and the Stories Behind Them. We were putting together an impressive Powerpoint presentation. The night before, we needed to practice and make some final touches. Mrs. Vega had called Mom and convinced her that I should stay the night so Jaime wouldn’t have to drive me home late into the night. It was hard to concentrate on the project since I was so nervous/excited about sleeping in Jaime’s room tonight! Every time I would have a thought of what I wished would happen, I would have to remind myself that Jaime wasn’t into me like I was into him. We finally finished working at 11:30—a little on the late side for both of us. We went to the far end of the house to Jaime’s bedroom. Let me tell you—Jaime’s bedroom is a maybe-I’m-a-gay-boy’s paradise! The walls are covered with all these Olympic swimmers in Speedos. Fuuuuuuuck! I’m gonna be boned up before I even take my jeans off! Just look down at the floor—just look down at the floor! We went into the bathroom and brushed our teeth and took a piss. When we finished with that, we went out into the bedroom. We stripped down to our boxer briefs, and I asked Jaime where he wanted me to sleep. “You’re sleeping in here with me, dufus!” “Oh—okay.” At least it’s a big bed so I won’t be too tempted! Right? Jaime was on the right side of the bed, lying on his side and smiling. I crawled in under the sheet and laid on my side with my arm holding up my head. “So, Hello You—this is my first-ever sleepover. Is this the part where we stay up too late and talk—you know, make each other giggle and shit?” “Well, Smart Ass—I’m not so sure about the giggling part, but I do want to do some talking. And—uhm—I hope we’re at least still friend when I tell you I need to say.” “Dude—there’s not a thing you could tell me that would make me feel any different about you. Well—maybe if you told me you were a serial ax-murderer. Then I might have to rethink things. But then—I’m pretty sure we’d still be good.” “Even if I told you I’m pretty sure I’m gay?” Whoa! That was pretty much the last thing I was expecting to hear! I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I wanted to blurt out that I probably was gay, too. But then I didn’t want him to think I was just saying that to make him feel better. Fuck, I’m so into my head I haven’t said anything. I could see worry and panic in his eyes. “Jaime—that wouldn’t change a thing about how I feel about you. Trust me.” Jaime sighed in relief. “You don’t hate me?” “Hell no. I could never hate you. You’re my bestie—my bud.” “Even if I told you that I love you?” “I love you, too—always will.” “No. That’s not what I mean, Hunter. I mean—uhm—I’m like—I’m in love with you. I want to be with you every way I can.” I didn’t know what to say—especially when silent tears started to fall down Jaime’s face. I reached over and wiped a tear away with my thumb. “Please don’t cry, Jaime. There’s nothing to be sad about because—well—I’ve been trying for the last few weeks how to tell you I wanted the same thing.” “What?? What are you saying?” I held out my arms and pulled Jaime closer to me. “This.” I closed the space between us and touched my lips to Jaime’s—beautiful, adorable Jaime. “I think I started to fall in love with you the first time you smiled at me that first day in homeroom.” “Do you know why I smiled at you like that?” “No.” “Because I had just seen the most beautiful and handsome boy I’ve ever seen in my life. I smiled because, at that moment, you knocked my heart on its ass.” I leaned in and kissed Jaime again. When I felt his tongue move across my lips, I didn’t even think about it when I opened my mouth. Our tongues began to move around each other’s, causing us to moan into each other’s mouths. I was breathing as if I had just finished swimming several laps. When we broke the kiss, Jaime looked into my eyes and smiled. Wow! It felt like he was looking inside my heart—into my soul. This probably sounds stupid, but it was like—at that very moment—we became one. We became one being that had equal parts of each other. “You okay, Hunter?” “Yeah. You’ve just made me the happiest boy in all of West Texas.” “Yeah?” Jaime moved his hand off my face and the next thing I knew, felt it over my very hard cock. “Whoa—it’s big—real big!” I moved my hand down and did the same to Jaime. It felt like he was about the same size as I was, but not quite as thick. “Nice. You’re so wet down there. Did you nut?” “No. I’ve been making pre ever since you crawled into bed with me. “May I?” “Whatever you want, Jaime. Whatever—anything.” He reached down and slid my boxer briefs down, freeing my hard (and leaking) cock. I did the same to him—I mean, I didn’t want him to feel like he was overdressed or anything. We each had our hands on each other’s cocks. It was weird in a way. In my whole life, I’ve never touched another cock. How can it feel so different? I mean—a cock is a cock—right? Jamie kicked the sheet down, so we were totally exposed on the bed. He shifted, so he was on his back, and I did the same. We began to stroke each other slowly, and Jaime said we should keep things slow so we could last as long as possible. Cute and smart! I turned my head and found Jaime looking at me. The look in his eyes was full of passion and want. All I knew was I wanted to kiss him while we were stroking each other. We shifted slightly and began kissing. Well, that pretty much did it for me. I started to gasp into Jaime’s mouth and was soon covering both of our bodies with hot spunk. Jaime didn’t take any time at all to follow up with his own nut shower. We shifted our bodies, so we were pressed together and sharing a deep kiss. “You okay, bud?” “Hunter, I’ve never been more okay in my entire life. I love you, dude.” “Yeah, I’m right there with you.” Jaime pulled himself out of bed and went into the bathroom. I heard him running the water a bit, and he was soon wiping me clean with a warm washcloth. He crawled back into bed and pulled the sheet up. “Hunter?” “Yeah?” “Would you hold me tonight?” “Yeah. I’d like that.” I wrapped my body around Jaime, holding on to his chest. He held my hands and breathed deeply. “Thank you, Hunter. I’ve never been so happy.” “I love you, Jaime. Don’t ever forget that.” I don’t remember ever having slept as well as I did that first night with Jaime. We shifted sometime during the night, and I was sleeping on my back with Jaime using my chest as his pillow. I remember holding Jaime in my arms when I dozed off again. The next thing I knew, I had the most amazing feeling I’ve ever felt! I knew I must be dreaming! At first, I didn’t open my eyes—well, I didn’t open them until I figured out that feeling was coming from my dick! What I saw when I did open my eyes was Jaime’s mouth wrapped around my dick. His head was bobbing up and down while he kept his eyes looking at me. He was stroking his own cock while he was sucking me into his hot-as-fuck mouth! Shit! I was so close to blowing my nut into Jaime’s mouth. I warned him that I was close and tried to pull his head away. Jaime wasn’t going to have anything to do with that, and slapped my hand away. I could tell by the way Jaime was breathing hard that he was about to nut, too. I could feel the tightness in my balls and knew I was about to explode. That’s when I felt Jaime’s hot nut spray across my thighs and balls. That’s also all it took for me to fill Jaime with my nut—I’m pretty sure that was the biggest nut of my entire life, too! I asked Jaime who was first in the shower. He smiled and said his Mom and Dad were already on their way to work, and his brother would sleep for a few more hours—dead to the world. “Okay—so who’s first?” “Let’s shower together.” “Wha—oh!! Okay!” We went into the bathroom. My thighs and balls were still wet and sticky from Jaime’s nut. He set the water temperature to a pretty warm level, and he led me into the tub. It was a little crowded, but that didn’t matter since we were hugging and kissing for a while. Jaime poured some liquid soap onto this thing that looked like a big ball of netting—and he started to clean my body from head to toe. Once I rinsed off, I returned the favor. I thought I had died and gone to heaven as I got to explore every inch of Jamie’s body that morning. We didn’t bother washing our hair since we do that after swim practice. Later that day, we gave our presentation and aced it. Everybody paid attention—even applauding when we finished. I grinned my face off—and Jaime blushed at the acknowledgment. After practice, Jaime held my hand as he drove me home. He came into the house, and my mom was wonderful. When Jaime thanked her for letting me stay over—because we aced our presentation, of course—she smiled at him and said she was happy that everything worked out so well. Ha! If she only knew. She dished up some leftover apple cobbler, topped it with ice cream, and had us sit at the kitchen table to enjoy an afternoon snack. When we finished, Jaime thanked Mom again and said he needed to head back. I walked him out to his truck and thanked him again for the best night of my life. “I can’t wait until we can have another sleepover. There’s so much I want to try with you.” “It’ll happen, Hunter—just not soon enough. I love you.” “I wish I could kiss you, but Mom might see.” “It’s all good. Just know that right now, I’m kissing the fuck out of you in my mind!” Jaime smiled and started the truck. I stood and watched him disappear down the long driveway back to the highway. I smiled, sighed, and walked back to the house. Life was pretty damned good—if you ask me! I walked back into the house and went back to the kitchen to tell Mom I was going upstairs to get started on my homework. She was wiping down the counter when the real Mom appeared. “You spend too much time with that boy. It’s not right.” “What? Jaime is my friend—Hell, he’s my only friend.” “It’s not right. You need to make more friends, then.” “Sorry, Mom. Just ‘cause you sit in this damned house being miserable—unless an outsider shows up—doesn’t mean I have to be miserable, too. I’m finally happy. I’m doing good in school, I’m kicking ass on the swim team, and I have a friend who cares more about me than anyone else around here!” “Clean up your language, boy—you’re not too old for that bar of lye soap.” “Whatever. I’m going upstairs.” I grabbed my shit and went up to my room. I slammed the door behind me. I was so pissed! That woman drives me up the fucking wall the way she puts on her show whenever someone visits. Hell, at least my old man treats me like shit no matter who’s in the room. I looked over to the bed and found my laundry clean, folded, and in neat piles. Well—almost all of my laundry. On the other side of the t-shirts stack, Mom laid out eight tube socks. These were the socks I nut in when I jerk off. There was a note too. “I’m not touching these. Disgusting.” I don’t think I said two words during dinner. Every now and then, I would look up to see Mom just looking at me. Dad—like always—just grunted as he stuffed his face with meatloaf. What a family, huh? Later that night, I called Jaime. He noticed I was down, and he finally got me to open up to him. I explained how pathetic my family was when no one else was around. He still found it hard to believe that Mom was such a cold, miserable bitch. He asked if he could come over on Saturday. He wanted me to show him the river where I would practice swimming. I told him that even though it was warming up, the water was still too cold to go swimming. He didn’t seem to mind. We agreed that he would come over at ten in the morning—that’s when Mom goes to the grocery store. And that became our routine. I would spend one night a week at Jaime’s house. As he convincingly explained to my mother, we had five classes together. We needed to help each other out, so our grades stayed good. Saturday mornings, we were out at the river. Jaime would drive his truck out to the back of the ranch, and we would lay out a quilt and end up have loud and dirty sex for a couple of hours. While we both had a blast out by the river, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love spending time with Jaime’s family. His mom and dad treated me like one of their kids. We would say more to each other at one dinner than all of the conversations I’d had with my asshole parents in the past three years. You know how most kids look forward to their sixteenth birthday? Not me. That was one of the most miserable days of my life. Mom and Dad didn’t even acknowledge that it was even my birthday! No “happy birthday, son,” no card, no cake, nothing! The Vegas had me over for dinner and made up for it. I was so embarrassed when I got tears in my eyes. Mrs. Vega carried a big-ass red velvet birthday cake out of the kitchen. It was loaded with candles, and everyone sang Happy Birthday to me! As we were finishing up the cake—which was awesome, by the way—Jaime asked me if I was excited to learn how to drive. Well, that just blew all the air out of my sails. All I could do was look down at the table and shake my head. “They won’t teach me. Neither of ‘em has time. I have to wait until I turn eighteen and then sign myself up for one of those private schools. It’s okay. It’s not like I would ever have anything to drive, anyway.” I looked up so I could apologize for ruining such a nice dinner. I saw Mrs. Vega look at her husband. She nodded and smiled. “Hunter. Alex and I have been talking, and the first thing I want to say is that you have been such a wonderful friend to Jaime. He’s not been this happy since his brother died overseas. You’ve given him—and us—a wonderful gift. Our boy is alive again—and it’s all because of you.” “You don’t have to thank me for that. Jaime makes me happier than I’ve ever been in—well, forever.” Mr. Vega spoke next. “Maria and I would like you to have Carlos’ truck. It’s just sitting in the driveway, not being used by anyone.” “What? I can’t take Carlo’s truck—not even as a gift!” Dammit! I couldn’t say anything else with that damned lump in my throat. I took a drink of iced tea and managed to speak again. “Besides, my parents would never let me have it.” Mrs. Vega put her hand on top of mine. “Why don’t you let me talk to your mother about that. I’ll go with you in the morning when Jaime takes you home.” “Mom goes to the grocery at ten.” “Then we’ll leave here at 8:00. Don’t you worry about a thing. Your mother will see things our way when I speak with her.” That night, Jaime gave me the best birthday present ever! We kissed and got off in a quick sixty-nine. That’s when he asked me to fuck him. “Are you sure? Are you—are we ready for that?” “I’ve never been so ready in my life!”
  7. Smarm away all you want! You have just made my year!
  8. I'm very very fortunate to live in Austin. Since you lived in Texas, I'm sure you know that it's a great city. I love there is a lot more diversity here than there is in pretty much any other city in the state!
  9. You might want to stock up on some tissue. You might remember there's going to be some big-time sadness about halfway through the story!
  10. I'll be addressing the Spanish class thing in the next chapter :) Do you know how much I love that 99% of the time you are my first comment?
  11. THE BARNSTABLE CHRONICLES – Book 6 THE BARNSTABLE COWBOY CHAPTER 1 – Misery and Confusion Every kid who starts the school year in a new school will tell you the same thing—it sucks. It totally and completely sucks giant bull dicks. Okay, so I’m not totally a new kid. It’s the first day of my Freshman year at Abilene High School. Abilene, for those of you who don’t know, is the asshole of the planet—one big, smelly, hairy asshole. And yes, this place is pretty much full of shit. Okay, so I’m not in the best mood. Shoot me, okay? I had to catch the school bus at 7:30 in the fuckin’ morning, so I can spend more than an hour riding all over West Texas to pick up all the other ranch kids. At least high school starts an hour later than middle school. Yeah, I’m a ranch kid. We have a large ranch out west of Abilene. I fuckin’ hate it, too. My old man hates me because I hate it. He keeps spewing off this shit about how he’s busting his ass to make the ranch a success so I can take it over when I finish high school. No. Fucking. Way! I have no idea what I’m going to do, but I do know I’m going to bust my ass in high school so I can go to college in a real city—a real city far, far away from this shithole. I’m also going to get my ass involved in as much shit as I can for the next four years—anything to keep my ass away from my sorry excuse of a home. The bus dumped us off about twenty minutes before school was supposed to start. This place is a helluva lot bigger than middle school. I grabbed the schedule I was sent and set out to find room 235. Where the fuck was that? Luckily, they had teachers stationed all over the place to help us newbies find our way. I made my way to a nice-looking lady that had a nametag that said, “Hello! My Name is Mrs. Flores.” She showed me where I needed to go, and I made my way to homeroom. I walked in. All the seats in the back were already taken. Fucking bus too long to get here. I took a seat in the middle of the room. No way I was going to sit in the front! I settled into my seat when he walked in—a Latino boy with longish black, wavy hair. He looked like he was pretty muscular and seemed to be on the short side—maybe 5’6” or 5’7”—and before he sat in the seat in front and over to the side of mine, he smiled at me. Why did that make me blush? Why did my dick start to get hard? Well, honestly—my dick was always getting hard—hell, I was fifteen. My dick is hard more than it wasn’t. The warning bell rang at 8:55, and at 9:00, the final bell rang. The teacher walked in and shut the door. Here we go. She introduced herself as Ms. Davies. She was kinda young for a teacher, so I guess that was cool. The first thing she did was call roll. She called my name, and I called out “here” like everyone else. The last name she called out was Jaime Vega. “Here—but it’s Jaime—like I’m saying hello to myself—HI ME—not JAY ME.” “Very well, Mr. Vega. I won’t make that mistake again.” Ms. Davies went on about how we were going to love high school and how we were about to make a whole new world of friends. Blah. Blah. The next thing she did was give us our locker assignments. She called our names, and we had to go up to the front and get a card. It had our locker number and the lock combination. Once she gave Jaime his card, she told us we could all go out into the hall and make sure our combinations worked. She opened the door and led us out into the hallway. Our lockers were all on the wall in front of her room. That worked. I went to my locker, and after a couple of tries, I finally got my locker open. I threw my backpack in and shut it. When I looked over to my left, Jaime was having trouble with his. “You have to make two circles to the right, then go to the left to your first number.” “Oh. Thanks dude!” I watched Jaime try again, and he got his locker open. “Yes!” “Cool.” “It’s Hunter, right?” “Yeah. And you’re Hello You, right?” Jaime smiled at me again. Damn! This boy has pretty teeth! “I’m gonna like you, Hunter. You’re a smart ass. We’re gonna get along perfect.” “Wow. My old man calls me dumb ass all the time. And you think it’s smart?” Jaime mumbled something like, “I think it’s cute.” “What was that? I didn’t hear you.” “Nothing. Hey—let me see your schedule, Hunter.” Jaime pulled his schedule out of his pocket, and we compared. Turns out, he and I have five of six classes together. Jaime’s taking Civics when I’m taking Spanish. I guess he already knows Spanish. I didn’t say anything, though—didn’t seem right. We went back into the classroom. Ms. Davies said we could talk quietly until the bell rang for our first-period class. Jaime came up to me and asked me if we could swap digits since we were each other’s first high school friends. “And that means we’re gonna be best friends for the next four years. Might as well do this now, right?” There’s that smile again! Well, fuck me. We swapped phones and put our info in. I guess I have a new friend—at least until he finds out I’m a ranch kid and being friends with me is way more trouble than it’s worth. We made it through our morning classes, and after each one, we went to our lockers and threw our newly-assigned books inside. After third period, we made our way to the cafeteria for lunch. We found a table off to the side and started eating. Jaime took a bite and said, “Jesus help us all! How the Hell can high school cafeteria food be worse than middle school cafeteria food?” I took a bite of my meatloaf and had to agree. “Are they trying to teach us or kill us?” After lunch, we split up and I went to Spanish. The teacher was Ms. Flores, the lady who helped me find my way to homeroom. I walked in, and she said, “Buenos Dias, Seňor Landrey! Como está?” “Hi?” She smiled and told me to sit anywhere I wanted. Okay, I’m liking high school better than middle school. They would always make us sit in alphabetical order. Fifth period was P.E. I walked into the gym, and Jaime was already sitting in the bleachers. “Hunter!” “Hello You!” I smiled at my new friend as he rolled his eyes and shook his head. I sat next to him on the bleachers. The P.E. teacher was one of the coaches, so he spent most of the time talking about how he hoped we would consider participating in one of the school’s sports programs. I wish I could! It would mean more time away from the fucking ranch. At the end of the period, the teacher/coach handed out our P.E. uniforms and told us we were required to wear them for class. He said we had five minutes to change into the uniforms once the class began. He said we would have ten minutes to change and shower at the end of class. What the fuck? Ten minutes?? Our last class of the day was study hall. That was cool. On the way, Jaime said he thought he might try out for the swim team. “I wish I could.” “Why couldn’t you?” “’Cause I live on a ranch twenty minutes away from here.” “That’s not a problem. I could drive you home after practice.” “You’re a freshman. You can drive?” “I’m sixteen—got my license over the summer.” “I’m confused.” “I started school a year late. I got sick when I was a kid—right before I was supposed to start school. I missed too much, and they said I had to hold off a year.” “I couldn’t ask you to—” “You didn’t ask, I offered. Friends help each other, right?” “Your parents would let you do that?” “Pretty sure. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll ask them when I get home and call you later when they tell me it’s cool.” “I have to ask my parents if they’d let me. It’s iffy—my dad kinda hates me.” I was glad we got to sixth period before Jaime started asking too many questions about my home life. That would have sucked—and wouldn’t have been much of a first impression. Mr. Myers was the teacher in charge of our study hall. He asked if any of us had homework, and none of us did. He said that today would be the only day that would happen. He said the best thing about study hall being the last period of the day was that a lot of us could get most of our homework done before we had to leave school for the day. Made sense to me—but he didn’t know that I intended to take my homework with me. The more shit I had to do after school, the less time I would have to be around the old man. He said that we could hang out and quietly talk for the period. Jaime and I had grabbed seats together in the back of the room. He nudged me and said I should follow him—and bring my backpack. I did what he asked and followed him to the front of the room. “Mr. Meyers, would it be okay if Hunter and I went to the library?” “Why would you need to go to the library?” “Well, since we don’t have anything to work on today, I would like to check it out. We both love to read, and it just seems like it would be the perfect time to find our way around.” “Mr….?” “Landrey.” “Do you have anything to say?” “No sir. I would love to see what the library has.” He looked at us and finally said, “Okay. I’m going to trust that you’ll go to the library. Put your names on the passes. I will check with Mrs. Rodriguez and make sure you were there. I don’t want you boys pulling any shenanigans on your first day of high school. Okay?” “Yes,” we both answered. “You can leave school from there.” “Thank you, sir.” “Yes—thank you.” We picked up our hall passes and headed to the library. “Dude! Are you serious?” “Hell no! I just wanted to get away and spend some time with my new best bud!” “You’re crazy as shit, ya know!” “Yup, and you’re a smart ass. A match made in Heaven!” I was grinning my face off as we walked into the library. We walked up to the front desk and spoke with the librarian. “Hi. Today’s our first day here. Are we supposed to give you these?” “Yes, Jaime. When you come in during a class period, you need to bring your pass to me so I can stamp it.” “You got it right!” “Excuse me?” “My name—you said it right.” “Well, I said it correctly. Have people been mispronouncing your name today?” “Everybody’s been butchering it!” “Hang in there, young man. They’ll get it right soon enough—and then you’ll probably not want to hear it very often.” Wow! A librarian who seemed kinda cool. This wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. “Here’s mine.” I handed her my pass, and she stamped it. “Here you go, Hunter. Can you boys find everything you need?” “Yes ma’am. If it’s okay, Jaime and I want to walk around for a bit and see what’s here.” “That will be fine, boys. Just keep your talking to a whisper and other noise to a minimum. This is a library, after all.” We walked up and down the different aisles in the library. Jaime seemed to be looking for something in particular. I just had no idea what it was. “Here it is!” Jaime pulled down a book called Olympic Champions 1992-2012. He led me over to a table in the back of the library and had me sit next to him. He started thumbing through the pages but seemed to get nowhere with his search. “Are you looking for something specific?” “Yeah. His name is Pablo Morales.” “Don’t be a dumbass!” I grabbed the book and flipped to the index in the back. “Here you go. Page 87.” “Oh—forgot about the index. It’s your fault, ya know.” “My fault? What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” “Never mind. It’s stupid.” “No—tell me.” “Well—because when you smile at me like that, I get all stupid. Nobody’s ever smiled at me like that before—well, nobody outside the family.” “Stupid? Not you! No! I mean—the general public is stupid—for not smiling at you, I mean.” Weird. This time Jaime was smiling at me, and it felt like everything froze in time. “So—Jaime—what is it about this Pablo dude?” “Pablo Morales is probably the greatest Latino swimmer to ever be on the U.S. Olympic team. He set the world record and won a gold medal for the 100-Meter Butterfly. But what makes that even cooler is that he held on to his record longer than any swimmer in history.” “Holy shit! Look how strong he looks. He’s built like a brick shithouse!” “Yeah. He’s kinda my idol. I wanna be like him someday.” “So, you swim butterfly?” “Yeah—butterfly and freestyle. How about you?” “I swim in the river back at the ranch. I don’t know anything about strokes.” Jaime leaned into me and whispered into my ear, “I bet you know a lot about strokes when you’re layin’ in your bed at night!” Whoa! Did he just say that? Did he just say that in the fuckin’ library? I think I blushed about a hundred shades of red. “Hunter. Dude. Relax! We’re teenage boys. We’re supposed to be pounding our sausage at least once a day. We all do it. Totally normal.” “You are fuckin’ crazy, Hello You. Fuckin’ crazy, I say.” “Hunter—you don’t know the half of it!” School ended, and Jaime insisted that he take me home. He said if we were going to be best buds, he had to know where I lived. It made perfect sense to him, and I was already learning that when Jaime Vega decided to do something, there was no way he’d be talked out of it. When we pulled into the ranch, we drove by a couple of livestock grazing fields. When he saw the sheep, he stopped his truck. “Dude—you don’t fuck the sheep, do ya? I mean, when you get reeeeeeal horny?” “What the fuck? Hell no! This ain’t Oklahoma, dude!” “Ha! That was good! You’re funny as shit!” We drove the rest of the way to the house. I asked him to come inside and meet my mom. Dad was still out in the fields, and I explained that if I was going to convince her that I wanted to try out for swimming, she’ll want to meet Jaime before letting him bring me home after practice. We walked in the front door and shouted out, “Ma! I’m home!” Mom came out of the kitchen saying, “Well, you’re home early. Did the bus—oh! Who’s this?” “Ma, I already made a new friend. This is Jaime Vega. Jaime—Mom!” “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Landry. Something sure smells good!” “Oh, I’m making chicken and dumplings for dinner. Would you boys like a snack? I made some homemade chocolate chip cookies earlier this afternoon.” “That would be awesome, Ma.” As we walked back to the kitchen, I told Jaime to get ready to die and go to Heaven. “Ma makes the best fuckin’ chocolate chip cookies on the planet.” I poured a couple of cold glasses of milk while Mom put some warm cookies on a plate. She sat down across the table from us and picked at a cookie. “Tell me about your family, Jaime.” “Well—let’s see—My mom’s a teacher at Jefferson Elementary—third grade. My dad owns a landscape company.” “That sounds lovely. Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Jaime stopped chewing his cookie and looked down at the table. He took a deep breath before talking. “I have two older brothers. Frankie—he’s the oldest—he’s an Army vet. He signed up right after 911. He’s had a real hard time since he came back and lives at home until he’s ready to move on. I—uhm—had a second brother. Carlos idolized Frankie, and he joined the Army after he graduated high school. He—he didn’t make it back. It’s been hard for all of us—especially Frankie.” Whoa! Jaime started to tear up, but he didn’t cry—not out loud, anyway. “Oh, you poor boy. I’m sure that had to have been difficult for your entire family.” “Yeah, but we’re getting’ through it. We just do our best to get through everything day by day.” We just sat in silence for a while and nibbled on our cookies. Mom finally broke the silence by asking how our first day of high school went. “It was pretty good, Ma. Jaime and I have five classes together. That’s how we hit it off and became friends so fast. Oh—we got our P.E. uniforms. The teacher said we needed to wash ‘em before we wore ‘em, or they’d smell like boy sweat for the rest of the year. Is that true?” “He’s right. I would guess he’s had some smelly boys over the year. Just put them in the laundry, and I’ll run them through the wash tonight.” “He also told us that he hoped we would try out for one of the sports teams. I know I’m gonna try out for the swim team. I think Hunter wants to, as well.” “Well, I know you swim well. You’ve been swimming down in the river for years now. How would that work with swim practice and the bus schedule?” “Mrs. Landrey, that’s why I brought Hunter home today. I wanted to show him it would be no trouble at all to bring him home after practice or meets.” “That’s quite an imposition, Jaime. We could never ask you to do something like that.” “It’s not a problem. Friends do that kind of thing for their friends—especially when that friend is a good one—like Hunter here.” Dammit! He smiled at me again—and I blushed again. “Well, I think it would be a wonderful thing for you to get involved in some extra activities. You’re only in high school once. I’ll talk to your father tonight and let you know in the morning.” “Thanks, Ma.” “Well, I should get going. I need to be getting home soon. It was nice to meet ya, Mrs. Landrey.” “It was nice to meet you, too. Thank you for driving Hunter home. That was very sweet of you.” I walked Jaime out to his truck and said goodbye. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Hello You. Thanks for the ride.” “I can pick you up in the morning, too.” “Naw. That’s not a problem, but thanks for the lift. I’ll text ya when I find out what the old man says about swimming.” “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow, smart ass!” “See you tomorrow, dumb ass!” We both smiled—and blushed—before Jaime fired up his truck and drove back out to the highway. Mom’s chicken and dumplings were as awesome as ever. She didn’t bring up the swimming during dinner. When we finished eating, I helped Mom with the dishes, and she sent me upstairs to do my homework. “But, I don’t—” She gave me the look that I understood from experience—don’t say another word and get out of here so I can talk to your father. So, I went upstairs and fired up my Playstation. I just lost myself in some Grand Theft Auto until I hear Mom coming up the stairs. She knocked on the door and then came in. “I talked to your father, and he agreed to let you try out for the swimming team, but he insists that if you don’t make the team that you’ll be helping him with chores when you get home from school.” “Wow! Really? Thanks, mom. Just so ya know—I’m gonna make the team. I’m gonna do everything it takes—and then some—to make sure I’m the best damned swimmer Abilene High School has ever seen. As soon as Mom left my room, I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Jaime. <HUNTLAND: i’m in. they’re gonna let me try out! <JAIME69: awesome! i’ll see ya in the morning! <HUNTLAND: i just hope they can teach me all those strokes. <JAIME69: u don’t know how to stroke? dude! <HUNTLAND: i’ll show you strokes, asswipe! <JAIME69: promises. promises. <HUNTLAND: ha! you do crack me up mr. hello you! <JAIME69: dude. so glad i met you today. this is gonna be fuckin awesome. <HUNTLAND: you’re fuckin awesome <JAIME69: no u r <HUNTLAND: u r <JAIME69: no. WE are! Nite bud. Cya in the morning. <HUNTLAND: niters <JAIME69: don’t be practicing those strokes too much. your teenie weenie might just fall off! hehe <HUNTLAND: aint nothin teenie about this weenie! just sayin <JAIME69: nice :P I didn’t hear anything else from Jaime. I guess he was done with the texting. But damn! Why was I hard? Must’ve been talking about strokes and dicks. I locked my bedroom door and stripped off my clothes. I pulled one of my socks off my feet and stuck my 7½” cock inside. I started stroking, enjoy the Hell outta the feeling. What happened next kinda scared me a little—right before I started to fill my sock with my spooge, I got this image in my brain—an image of Jaime. He was naked on his bed and strokin’ his own damned cock. BAM! I just had the biggest nut in my life—and I was thinking about that cute Latino boy who just popped up into my life today. I think I’m fucked—big time fucked.
  12. Book six in The Barnstable Chronicles Series. (It would be helpful to read the other books before reading this. It's HIGHLY recommended that you read book 3, Vic Greeley Comes Home before you read this story.
  13. I don't know what happened. I know that the moderators are looking at comments for political comments and removing them. It's a divided and touchy time we're living in, but I don't recall anythung political in your comments. Please don't let whatever happened keep you from further comments. You are one of my inspirations to keep writimg and posting here. ❤❤
  14. GOODNIGHT & GODSPEED CHAPTER 10 – A New Life, A New Love, A New Way “This is my last night in the anchor chair as Greyson will be returning to the air for tomorrow’s broadcast. But first, we have a very special edition of ‘Greyson’s Take.’ Greyson?” “Thank you. I hadn’t planned on being back in the studio until Monday, but when the proverbial fan gets hit with the proverbial crap—courtesy of THE WEEKLY BUZZ—not something I spend much time reading—but when that rag plasters me on their front page, I had no choice but to come back a little early and address the elephant in the room. “I will admit that the BUZZ got one thing—and only one thing—correct. I have just returned from a retreat in Hawaii. The retreat I was a participant in was one of the most illuminating and revealing experiences I have ever had in my 33 years. In the past ten days, I have been on a journey of self-discovery. I’ve been inspired by 41 people who shared the same journey. I want to take a few minutes to share some of that journey with you. “Perhaps the lesson I learned that means the most to me is that I have spent the last several years making choices in my life that were designed to make me into the man that all of you have come to know. The only problem with that? The man that has been presented to the public isn’t the real me. “Now, don’t worry—you’re not going to see me turn into some three-eyed monster that will do horrible things on the air and in public. But you WILL see—me. You will find that the new Greyson Myers is confident, relaxed, and—hold on to your hats, folks—fun to be around! Trust me. There wasn’t much that was fun about the old Greyson Myers! “As I was writing this segment, I was confident and relaxed—but also torn. You see, my personal life should never be brought into the newsroom. It has always been my desire to be a man you could trust to tell you the day’s news—without wondering what he is up to when the cameras are off. “Unfortunately, until now, I have had a team that helped my career get where it is today. For that, I am generally grateful. I say ‘generally’ because there was a price they forced me to pay. That price was all about keeping me in the public eye. That price was an image that was not about the real me. That price was a lost friendship, a marriage that was far from perfect, and a distancing from the people who mean the most to me—my family. “Regarding my marriage to Elizabeth. From the day we met, she and I have been best of friends. We still are. We should have never married, but we were convinced that it would be good for our careers, and—it was. I am happy to say that she and I had a wonderful conversation while I was still in Hawaii. We’re in a good place now—a better place than we have been in years. “In fact, it was during that conversation when Elizabeth told me about the recent cover of THE WEEKLY BUZZ. It turns out that one of the participants in the retreat contacted Peter Sanchez and let him know I was there. This person also shared many things that she had heard me say about my life. Sadly, this person will be facing some rather severe legal ramifications for her actions. “And now, in regards to everything I’ve told you, I came back early so I could personally tell each and every one of my viewers the one thing I’m sure you’ve been waiting to hear. Yes, I’m a proud, content, and happy gay man. “I knew I was gay when I was a teenager. Only, I chose to bury those feelings and deny my true self because I thought it was more important to be the person I thought the people in my life needed me to be. That was the biggest mistake—and regret—I have in my life. “When you deny your true self, you are not only living a lie—you are also not allowing the people who love you most the opportunity to love the man they deserve to love. As I’ve found out, those are the people who will love you unconditionally—whether you are tall, short, skinny, overweight, straight—or gay. “To wrap this take up, I wanted to share with you the reasons I’m doing this tonight. The first, but not the most important, reason is that Peter Sanchez of THE WEEKLY BUZZ decided that he was going to write an article and out me in next week’s issue. Mr. Sanchez has a sick and demented thing where he tells the public he is doing some sort of service by forcing celebrities to be honest with their fans. He has forced countless celebrities to come out of the closet—some on their own terms—many on his. “To put it right out there—Peter Sanchez is a bully. He is no better than those kids who make the lives of countless young people miserable to the point that they end their lives. In fact, more than one of Sanchez’s victims have ended their own lives rather than face the fears caused by Peter Sanchez and his pathetic actions. Is that a service to the public? Absolutely not. This disgusting excuse of a gossip hound must be stopped. I will be meeting with some of my friends in the United States Senate and work to have a hearing on the practices and unethical behavior of Peter Sanchez and countless others in his field. I have made it my life’s goal to stop Peter Sanchez from causing the death of one more innocent human life. “Now, the main reason I decided to talk to you tonight? I want to let the public know that what matters is the person you truly are in your life. Be your true self. Let people get to know and love that person. And if any of you parents have a teenager that is questioning his or her sexuality, all you can do is one thing. Love them. Let them understand that their sexuality is just a small part of them. Just like the color of their hair—just like the color of their eyes. Their sexuality is not any bigger a part of your child than the shape of their nose or the size of their ears. “As a member of our crew said to me, not even an hour ago—‘the world is changing. And someday—someday there will come a time when no one will ever have to come out. People will just get to be who they are, and no one will give a damn.’ “I look forward to that day—and anything I can do to help make that day come a little sooner, I will happily do it. Even if it means that I get to come out on national television so my friends, my family, and my viewers will get to see that the new Greyson Myers is happy, content, pretty chill, and so comfortable in his skin that someone should write a book about it. Hey—maybe I will. “And this has been—Greyson’s Take. Goodnight and Godspeed.” “Cue music—aaaaaaand—we’re clear.” GREYSON I took a deep breath. As soon as we got the “all clear,” the entire studio erupted into cheers and applause. Well, I wasn’t expecting that! I stood and accepted hugs and handshakes from the crew. As I made my way to the back of the studio, I was stopped by Bob Jernigan, the network news director. “Greyson, that was beautiful. I’m told the switchboards are exploding with positive comments and support. And while that’s all well and good, the main thing is that you changed—and quite possibly saved—several lives tonight. I couldn’t be more proud to have you on our team.” Wow! If that wasn’t enough—Bob Fucking Jernigan wrapped his arms around me in a hug. Whoa! That never happens—ever! I finally made my way to Mom and Rafe. She was still sitting in her chair, dabbing her eyes. “How was it, Mom? Did it make any sense?” “Did it make any sense?? My dear boy. You told me you’d spent the better part of your life trying to make me proud. I can honestly tell you that never—NEVER—in my life have I been more proud to be your mother. That thing you said about just loving your kids—just the way they are? I always have—and I always…” She couldn’t finish. Sobbing. I haven’t seen my mother crying like that since Dad died. Only thing—nobody died. Wait. Someone actually did die. Beverly’s Greyson Myers died tonight. The new me was born. I was holding Mom in my arms while she wept and looked up to see with a huge smile and tears streaming down Rafe’s face. I looked into his eyes and smiled back. That’s when it happened. The connection between us was so incredibly intense. I knew that I was falling in love with Rafe Miller—I mean Milner—all over again. Mom got it together enough to say that she needed to get home. I told her I would take her out to reception and call her an Uber. “Can you get me a cab instead? I know it’s silly, but I feel safer in a cab instead of somebody’s car.” “Whatever you want, Mom.” I walked Mom and Rafe to the studio door and stepped out. Justin was waiting for me, and it was apparent that he had been crying as well. “I don’t want to be out of line here, but can I hug you, Grey?” “Justin, you’re not out of line in the least bit.” I hugged Justin, and he thanked me for adding his comment to my segment. “It was a beautiful sentiment and the perfect way to end my piece. Thank you!” Justin pulled away and smiled. “God, I love my job!” Mom and Rafe were smiling as I broke the hug. “Hey, Justin—I’m going to call a cab for my mom. Would you mind taking her downstairs and help her get it? It might be a little crazy outside the building. And yes, I know—it’s not your job, but I don’t think I can go down there and deal with the paps tonight.” “No worries, Greyson. Right now, I’d do just about anything you would ask!” We walked out to reception and ordered a cab for Mom. I gave her another kiss before she and Justin got onto the elevator. I turned around and found a still-smiling Rafe. “You—Mr. Milner—come with me!” I took Rafe back into my dressing room and locked the door once we were inside. “So cute-makeup-boy will do anything for Greyson Myers. Should I be worried?” “Worried? Worried about this?” I pushed Rafe against the wall, pressed my body against his, and kissed him as I’ve never kissed anyone ever before. He was whimpering and trembling against me as our tounges danced together. “I’m going back to your place tonight, Rafe. We’re going to go back sixteen years and have a complete redo. You up for that?” Rafe took my hand and placed it on his hard cock. “Hell the fuck yes, Grey! I’m up for you!” Rafe kissed me again and gently thrust his cock into my hand. He gasped as it began to pulse. “Jesus, Grey! I just nutted in my jeans! Can we get out of here?” “That was so hot, Rafe! I need to take off the makeup, so it doesn’t end up all over your sheets. I’ll only be a few minutes.” “Okay, can I use your bathroom? I should probably clean up a bit. God! That was hot! I’ve never thrown a nut from a kiss!” I gave Rafe a light kiss and told him we needed to get going so we could get out of here. “Fuck yeah, G.!” “Wow! No one has called me G. since we were kids.” “Good to know I still own that name. Let’s get out of here!” I went to my dressing table as Rafe went to the restroom to clean up. As soon as I sat down, my phone buzzed with a call from Beverly. I will NOT have her calling me all night, so I picked up. “Greyson here.” “Well, that was quite a performance, Greyson. What were you…” “Not now, Beverly. I would like to see you tomorrow afternoon. We’ll talk then.” “Fine. I have 1:30 open.” “Excellent. I’ll see you then.” I ended the call without a goodbye. The only thing I was looking forward to more than tomorrow’s meeting was my night with the gorgeous man in my bathroom. I have never been this excited in my life! Before removing my makeup, I dialed reception and asked if they would have my driver ready in ten minutes. Once that was taken care of, I took off my makeup, applied a bit of moisturizer, and changed back into my polo. Perfect timing. A smiling Rafe walked out of the bathroom. “Jesus G., I smell like a fucking cum factory!” “And I get to smell that all the way home? How hot is that?” I grabbed the stunning man in front of me, kissed him again, and led him out of my office. We got on the elevator and made our way to the basement. We got off the elevator, and Jerry was standing by the open door. “Good evening, Jerry. We’ll be returning to the same address where you picked us up.” “Excellent, Mr. Myers. If I may ask, did something happen tonight? The press is all over the place out there.” “Yes, Jerry. Something did happen. And just so you know—that’s not the press—those are the parasites. Try not to stop when we leave the building.” “Yes sir. I’ll try not to hurt anyone.” “Go ahead and hurt them. They’ve earned it.” RAFE I can’t believe I fucking nutted in my jeans! Jesus! I’m 32 years old, and my dick decides to act like it’s sixteen again! Well, I guess that’s what Grey wants. He wants a do-over of that horrible birthday sixteen years ago! As we were leaving the parking garage, it was fucking crazy! There were at least fifty people with cameras trying to get a photo of Grey and me as we were pulling out on the street. Idiots! The windows were tinted just enough that all those flashes were going to bounce off the glass and right back into their cameras. No one was getting a pic of us tonight! We pulled away from the building and were on our way back home. “Sir? It looks like we have two cars following us.” “Can you lose them?” “Of course I can. It’s my favorite part of my job. Hold on, sir!” And there we were. Before we could blink, we were suddenly in a Martin Scorcese film. Jerry was expertly maneuvering the car around corners and onto side streets. He would weave in and out of traffic and in just minutes put at least five or six cars between us and the paps. In no time, we were on my side street and in front of my building. “Excellent job, Jerry! You’re the best!” “Go—get out of here before they figure out where we are.” “Goodnight, Jerry. I’ll call and let you know where to get me tomorrow.” “This address?” “Yeah, most likely. Stay where you are, we’ll let ourselves out.” The three of us chuckled as I opened the door, and we hopped out of the car. Greyson and I ran up the stairs, laughing all the way. When we got inside the apartment, we were laughing—and out of breath. “God! That was so fucking crazy!” “Are you sure you want this insanity in your life? Broadway’s exciting as Hell, but this—this is just one big-ass layer of cra-cra!” “Bring it on, Grey. I haven’t been this happy in—well—sixteen years.” “God, I need a drink. You have anything?” “I’ve got beer, wine, and about a half bottle of Maker’s Mark.” “Whiskey, please. But only if you join me.” “Hell to the yes, G.! You hungry?” “Yeah, I am. Ideas?” “There’s a great Thai place two doors down. What would you like?” “Man, I could really get into some Pad Thai right now. Is it good?” “It’s the best! Beef, pork, chicken, shrimp, or tofu?” “I’m thinking pork or shrimp. What do you usually get.” “It’s all good, but their pork is to die for.” “Sounds like pork, then. Oh! Do they have Tom Ka?” “They have both Tom Yum and Tom Ka.” “Recommendation?” “Tom Ka. They don’t overdo the ginger like a lot of places, and the coconut milk is perfect.” “Now I’m starving!” “I’m going to change my pants and call in the order. I’ll go down and pick it up, too. It won’t take too long.” “I’ll go with you—as long as the paps haven’t found us.” “Well, let’s see.” I opened the window in the living room and stuck my head out. There was no one hanging around on the sidewalk. It was clear across the street, too. “It looks pretty empty down there. Let me hurry and change, so we beat the theatre crowds. Whiskey’s in the cabinet to the left of the sink—glasses to the right. I’ll be right back.” I quite literally ran to the restaurant. It was a perfect time. They were staffed up for the upcoming theatre rush, so it didn’t take any time at all for my order. I was back at the apartment in fifteen minutes. As I opened the door, I had a brilliant idea. “Grab the Maker’s and glasses, then follow me.” “What?” “Just do it, G. I promise—you’ll love this.” Grey followed me up the stairs, and we eventually made up to the building’s roof. I opened the door and plugged in the lights. “Oh, wow! Rafe—this is awesome!” I looked over Grey and noticed wide eyes and a big smile. Thank God this beautiful man hasn’t become jaded as so many so-called stars do. I reached into a cabinet and pulled out a tablecloth and a small towel. I wiped down the furniture, put the cloth on the table, and set the food out. Grey poured two healthy glasses of the best-damned whiskey, and we sat down. Grey raised his glass to me, smiling, and shaking his head. “This is—it’s incredible, Rafe. I mean—you see this shit in the movies, but I’ve never known anyone who actually created a romantic dinner spot on the roof. But most importantly, thank you. Thank you for meeting me at the airport. Thank you for getting me through my day. Thank you for being at the studio and for your support. Thank you for this amazing dinner. But the most important thing I need to thank you for is letting me back into your heart after all this time.” We clicked our glasses and took a healthy gulp. I love the warmth of Maker’s Mark as it moves down my body. I reached for Grey’s hand from across the table. He took it, and we rested them next to the boxes of food. “You know, G., I wasn’t totally sure about this until I saw you this afternoon, but—you never left my heart—after all these years. You have always been there to some degree.” We leaned across the table and lightly kissed. “We should eat before everything gets cold, shouldn’t we?” I nodded in agreement and proceeded to open our boxes and soup containers. I’m pretty sure agreed that this was the best fucking Thai food in the city since he was moaning with pleasure after nearly every bite. After a few minutes, Grey started to chuckle. “You know, I was certain we were going to get into your apartment, rip our clothes off, and get right to the down and dirty.” “Yeah. Honestly—that was the plan in my dirty little brain for most of the day.” “What happened? Do you not want to—” “Shut up. If you must know—” “I must! I must!” “Okay, Mel Brooks—my plans changed when I started to completely—head over heels—fall in love with the boy I fell in love with all those years ago.” “Oh. I—wow—when did that happen?” “Believe it or not—it happened during that insane car ride home.” “You’re kidding me. Really??” “Yeah. It felt like everything was right again. It reminded me of all the crazy shit we used to do together. Like that April Fool’s day when we all switched all the shit between Mr. Faulkner’s and Miss Davis’ rooms?” “Oh my God! That was hilarious! They were so fucking confused for at least ten or fifteen minutes. And the way you got both classes to do it. It only took ten minutes. Sooo worth missing lunch for!” “I hate that I made Mom and Dad move me to another school. I never had any fun times like I did with you. I was an idiot.” “You weren’t an idiot, Rafe. You were a kid. We both did stupid shit back then. But I have a confession to make. I started falling in love with you today, too. The way you had my back and helped me get through all the shit—it was just like the way you took care of me when we were younger. It felt like I was back home—and everything was right with the world.” “Whoa. I don’t know—fuck. So—anyway—I didn’t want tonight to be just about sex and doing shit to get each other off. I wanted to make this a night you wouldn’t ever forget—not that you could or anything. What you did with your statement was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Maybe that’s when I started to fall in love with you all over again.” “Awww. But you’re right—this is a day that I’ll never forget as long as I live. And I’m glad you held off on the sex thing. I was hungry as fuck—as you can see by my empty containers. But this—this rooftop terrace thing. This is pretty fucking romantic. Are you trying to woo me, Mr. Milner?” “Busted! But I’ve only just begun. Let’s get this shit cleaned up and go back downstairs.” GREYSON We threw our empty containers and all the other shit into the bag. Rafe took the bag and grabbed the glasses and liquor. I followed Rafe down the five flights of stairs. He threw the bag down the trash chute, and we went back into the apartment. “Have a seat on the sofa and pour us another round, k?” I did what I was asked to do, and Rafe went up to a cabinet on the opposite wall. Jesus! It was about ten shelves of DVDs. “What? You still use DVDs?” “Only when what I want to watch something that isn’t streaming.” “What are we watching?” “You’ll see.” Rafe slid the disk into the player and took a seat on the sofa—about a foot away from me. I started to slide toward him, and he said, “Not yet. You’ll see.” He hit the play button on the remote and fast-forwarded through the opening legal shit, and then I saw what he was doing. The title Boy’s Briefs appeared on the screen. It was the movie we watched that fateful night sixteen years ago. “Rafe…” “Shhh. The rule is that I get to pick the movie since it’s my birthday. I hope you like it.” Tears came to my eyes as I realized he was giving us a second chance to make things right. That did it for me. I’m totally in love with this amazing man. Even though the actors were a bit young for my taste, the movie still intrigued me. This time, the more erotic scenes definitely excited me. I wanted so badly to jump on Rafe and devour him, but he was in charge of this little scenario, and I happily went along. When the film ended, Rafe turned off the television and turned to face me. “What did you think?” “It was different. I’ve never seen a movie like that, but I guess I liked it okay. Why did you pick that movie?” “Because I needed to see what you thought about it.” “Why? It’s your birthday. It doesn’t matter if I like your movie.” “It does matter, G. You see—I love you.” “I love you too, Rafe.” “No—you don’t get it. I’m like those boys. And I’m in love with you.” Our eyes were locked as Rafe moved closer to me. He moved his head to mine, and I noticed a slight smile as his lips touched mine. In no time at all, the kiss turned passionate, and Rafe placed his hand on my very hard cock. Just as I did so long ago, I broke the kiss. I waited long enough—too long, probably—to see a look of panic begin to appear in Rafe’s eyes. “I love you, too. Rafe—I love you with all my heart and soul.” I leaned in and returned the kiss. Rafe began whimpering while our tongues continued their dance. I’ve decided that little whimper sound is a massive turn-on for me. This time Rafe broke the kiss. “You’ve made me the happiest boy in all of Manhatten, Gary Mackolvich. Can we go to the bedroom?” I smiled and nodded. Rafe stood and held his hand out to me, pulling me up from the sofa. We walked into the bedroom, and Rafe pulled me into his arms once again. “Thank you, Grey. Thanks for letting me play out that night again—the way I had always dreamed it would have been.” “Thanks for taking me there. It was amazing.” “The re-living part is over. If I’m about to get you into my bed, I certainly don’t want to be awkward teenagers.” “Thank God! Although I’m still new at all this stuff, I may not be all that you want me to be.” “I promise—you are going to be absolutely perfect.” We began to undress each other slowly, exploring each other’s body as flesh was bared. Holy shit! Rafe has grown into a smoking hot body! “Jesus, Rafe—you are fucking amazing!” “Fuuuuuuuuuuck!” Yes, Rafe likes getting his nipples sucked on. I unbuttoned his jeans and slipped my hands down the back and cupped his ass—his rock-hard, muscular ass. Rafe opened my jeans and pushed them down below my hips. I stepped out of them as they fell to the floor and then lowered the zipper on Rafe’s. Ha! When he changed his pants, he didn’t bother with underwear! Rafe pushed my underwear down, and finally—finally—we were both naked, kissing, and grinding our hard cocks against each other. Rafe pulled away and said, “Jesus, G., I’m so fucking close!” “Me too, Rafe. I’ve been so horny for you all day.” He kissed me and pulled me down to his bed. We were on our sides, facing each other. “Really? You’ve wanted this all day?” “I’ve wanted this since the first time we talked the other day.” “I have an idea.” “So far, your ideas have been pretty awesome.” “Let’s 69, get each other off, and then we can take our time and make love to each other.” “Yes!” Rafe turned himself around, and I found his cock in my face. It looked to be a bit shorter than mine, but definitely thicker. I grabbed the base and rolled my tongue around the head just as I felt my cock sliding into Rafe’s mouth. Rafe opened his throat, and I felt the head of my cock ease in. I had his cock in my mouth and was pumping my head over his hardness. I took my free hand began to rub his smooth balls. That caused Rafe to moan. That caused me to explode. It came so fast I didn’t even have time to warn Rafe. He didn’t have time either. His nut filled my mouth just as mine was ending. Once our breathing slowed and we were both in a semi-conscious state, Rafe shifted around and kissed me. We could taste our nut on each other’s tongue as we moaned through yet another wonderful kiss. “Well, that was pretty close to what sixteen-year-old sex would have been like—at least with how long we didn’t last!” “Don’t worry, G. We’re gonna have some intense grown-up sex as soon as we recover.” Facing each other on their sides, the two of us dozed a bit in our post-orgasmic bliss. After about fifteen minutes, I felt Rafe push a lock of hair from my forehead, and my eyes flickered open. “Hi.” “Hello, Mr. Myers. I must say—you grew up quite nicely.” “Well, that’s the kettle calling the pot black. You are one of the most stunning men I’ve ever seen.” “Hey—I saw that photo of you and that blond hottie kissing. There’s no way I could compete with that.” “There’s no competition. Lucas is very attractive. He’s a wonderful friend. But—and this is the last time I’m going to say this—you and I have known each other most of our lives. Even with the lost years between us, you still know me better than anyone else. With you, it feels like I’m—I don’t know—it feels like maybe I’m home?” “Wow.” There were gentle caresses and kisses, which became more intense with every breath. Soon enough, we were both hard and rolling around on the bed. “Grey—please tell me you like to top. I need that big cock inside me.” “Whatever you want, Rafe. Whatever you want.” I quickly thought back to my “lessons” back in Hawaii. I knew what Lucas liked. I guess I get to find out what Rafe enjoys now. Lucas liked it when I would kiss the side of his neck—right where it met his shoulder. Oh yes, Rafe was into that as he moaned and cursed. I moved down and began flicking my tongue over a nipple—just like Lucas enjoyed. Rafe seemed to enjoy nipple sucking, but I wanted to take it to another level. When I gently bit down and tugged on his engorged nipple, Rafe’s entire body lifted off the bed. “Ohhh, Fuuuuuuuck! That’s—Oh, God!” Yeah, he likes it. I moved down and found some tasty rivers of precum floating in the ridges of Rafe’s abs. I love the taste—it’s sweet, with just a hint of salty, savory undertones. I resisted the temptation to put Rafe’s cock back in my mouth and kissed my way lower. I scooted down on the bed and moved between Rafe’s legs—pushing them up to his chest. He held on to them, exposing his quivering hole. Not that I’ve had a close-up view of a lot of asses, but Rafe’s had me in awe. I put my hands on each cheek and felt his glute muscles flexing and relaxing under my touch. When I pulled them apart, there wasn’t a hair in sight. He was completely smooth, and Rafe’s hole was almost winking at me—flexing with his muscles. I resisted the temptation and instead began to lick and nip at the ridge of skin between Rafe’s balls and ass. Oh yeah! So far—that was his favorite spot! His smooth and heavy balls were resting on my nose, filling my senses with his unique smell. Now—I liked that! I could feel my cock leak onto the sheets. “Please! Please, G.! Yes!” Rafe’s breathless begging only made me want to torment him even more. I sucked one of his balls into my mouth, pressing it between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. “Ooooh! Fuuuuck! Yes, G., Fucking Yes!” Alright. Rafe likes his balls sucked. Being ever so accommodating, I gave his other ball the same treatment. I tried, but there was no possible way to get them both in my mouth without causing some serious pain. I licked my way back down Rafe’s taint as I pulled his cheeks apart. I reached his awesome hole and teased it mercilessly. I would flick my tongue across—up and down—and then make circles around it. Rafe’s whimpers and moans grew louder and louder—as did his begging for me to tongue-fuck him. Okay—it turns out all this swearing and dirty talk really turns me on. The best part is I have no doubt in my mind what Rafe likes—or wants—or desperately needs. I pulled away and decided to tease Rafe even more. “You want my tongue, babe? Is that what you need? Want some tongue-fucking?” “Please, G.! I need it so bad! I’ve wanted this for so long! Please! Please give me that fucking tongue!” I literally plunged my face into Rafe’s ass, throwing my tongue into his quivering hole. He flexed and released his ass muscles in rhythm with my tongue. It didn’t take long for Rafe to start begging me to fuck him. He needed me inside him—now! “Lube?” “Drawer!” Rafe flung his arm to the side of the bed, showing me which nightstand had the bottle of lube. Rafe lowered his feet to the bed with his knees pointing up to the ceiling. I knelt between them, covering a finger with Gun Oil. Hmmm. This is some excellent lube. I’ll definitely need to get some for my nightstand! After working a third finger into Rafe’s hole, I asked him if he was ready. Whoah! He had tears in his eyes as he told me he had been ready for sixteen years. I could only look at him with the warmest of smiles. “I think I have been, too.” I lubed up my cock and realized I probably wasn’t going to last long at all—even though I had just blasted a load down Rafe’s throat not even thirty minutes ago. “How do you want to do this, Rafe?” “Just like this—me on my back. I want to look at you when you make love to me.” “You don’t want me to fuck you?” “Not this time—it’s too special.” “You’re right—I get it, Rafe.” We both let out a long and loud groan as the head of my cock slipped inside Rafe’s tightness. I slowly eased in a bit and stopped—eased in a bit more and stopped again. Our eyes were locked. I could see into Rafe’s soul as I found more and more of my cock inside this stunning man. When I was inside Rafe, as far as I could be, he asked me to stay there for a bit. “I just want to savor this feeling. I have never felt so complete in my entire life, G.” I lowered my body to Rafe’s and met him for a beautiful, tender kiss. He wrapped his arms around my back—and his legs around my waist. Oh. My. God! That kiss! It was the most amazing kiss I’ve ever experienced! It was as if our souls merged into one. It was quite simply—beautiful. I slowly began to move in and out of Rafe. Slowly. Tenderly. Every movement brought us closer to each other—creating a bond that we would soon learn would become unbreakable. There was no fucking at all. This was an experience that ended up showing each of us how essential the other was to our happiness. It was a bonding of our hearts—our souls—that could only create the foundation of a love that will last a lifetime. The slow build to our orgasms was something I don’t think I’ll ever experience again. We came at the same time while we were kissing. This was not the explosive orgasm of two horny teenagers getting off. This was the ultimate finale of a symphony of love-making. We continued kissing long after we came. I pulled up from the kiss and saw that we both had tears of joy in our eyes. “I’m so sorry this took sixteen years to happen, Rafe.” “What was that? I’ve never been taken to those places in my entire life. There’s no way you are new at this, G. That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever—fuck—that was so worth the wait, G. I do love you with every ounce of my being.” “For the rest of time, this day—this night-- will be the night that means more to me than life itself. I got you back, Rafe—and I’m never letting you go again.” “You really do mean that, don’t you?” “I mean that with all my heart, Rafe.” “G.?” “Yeah?” “Next time—fuck the shit out of me, k?” I kissed my beautiful lover, and we ended up falling asleep—I was still lying on top of Rafe, my cock was still somewhat hard and still deep inside him. We woke up in the morning, having shifted around in our sleep. Rafe was wrapped around me—holding me like he never planned to let me go. That worked for me! Of course, the need to pee won out, and we made our way into the bathroom. We shared the toilet as we pissed away our morning wood. A quick shower followed that. The shower was quick only because it was crowded. There just wasn’t much room for fun. We’re going to my place next! We dressed and went to a coffee shop a few doors down for some coffee and breakfast. It was rather nice not to be swarmed by paps for a change. A couple of guys—holding hands—did come up to us to thank me for my words last night. “We’ve been best friends for three years now—roommates for two. After your segment, we started talking and realized that we were much more than friends—so much more.” “Oh, wow! That’s wonderful. Are you guys happy?” “Happier than we ever thought was possible.” Rafe put his arm around my shoulder. “I know exactly what you mean—how you feel. It’s the best thing in the world, isn’t it?” “Are you two…” “This is Rafe. He and I were best friends growing up. We lost touch with each other for quite a long time and just found each other again. And yes, he’s my boyfriend.” Well, there you go! I just shared the most beautiful thing in my life with a pair of strangers—with strangers that had quite a bit in common with Rafe and me. We went home after breakfast, and I got ready for work. I needed to get there a little earlier than usual since I had been out for a while. I had some catching up to do—not to mention Beverly was coming by after lunch. I called my driver and told him where I was. I gave my Brooklyn address to Rafe, and he said he would take the train with some girl who was in the show. We had another wonderful kiss, and I went downstairs when my driver showed up. I’m glad I went in early. People were in and out of my office congratulating me on my statement. I also had hundreds of emails from all over the world. Some were negative and cruel, but the vast majority were supportive and grateful for my words. I even got an email from Anderson welcoming me to the “club.” 1:30 rolled around much sooner than I was expecting. The receptionist called and let me know that Beverly was on her way to my office—a woman who was not happy. Beverly didn’t even knock. She stormed in and stood at the door with her clenched hands on her hips. “What the Hell were you thinking, Greyson? Do you have any idea what you have done to your image?” “Good afternoon, Beverly. Why don’t you have a seat so we can talk like adults?” She huffed and sat on the sofa in front of my desk. I stayed at my desk—I rather liked the dynamics of the seating arrangement. “Are you going to answer me? I don’t even know where to begin to fix this mess you’ve created. Your image—it’s destroyed!” “It’s not my image, Beverly. It’s all yours—it’s the image you created. It has nothing to do with who I am.” “What the fuck are you talking about, Greyson? You’re not making any sense at all.” “And that’s the problem we have, Beverly. You don’t get it. You don’t get me. Here’s the thing—last night you saw me. You saw the real me for the first time. I can’t—and won’t—be anything but my true and authentic self from this point forward.” “How can you dismiss all my work—just like that? At best, you’d be nothing but a local news anchor in—God knows where. I made you what you are, Grey. I know what’s best for you!” “Yes, I owe my career to you. I wouldn’t be where I am if it weren’t for you. I wouldn’t have been able to say what I had to say—and have a positive impact on so many people if you hadn’t helped me get to where I am. I will always be thankful for you helping me, Beverly. But we’re not a good fit anymore. You have to know that, Beverly.” “What the fuck are you saying, Greyson? Are you firing me?” “God, I hate that word. But if that’s the word you need to hear, then yes, I’m firing you.” “You’ll never survive without me. I plan your appearances. I schedule your events. I get your stories in all the press. You can’t do that without me!” “And that’s the thing you don’t understand. You’ve never understood that I’m a journalist. I’m not some image that’s out there for you to peddle like some product. You think it’s all about fame and fortune. You’ll stop at nothing to get your clients’ names out there. You’ll even make them get married—even when it’s the biggest mistake they could have made.” “I’m under contract. You can’t just push me away like this!” “Yes, you are under contract—a contract that has a severance clause. I will honor that contract. You will get the money I’m obliged to pay you. But we’re done. I will get new management—management that has the real Greyson Myers’ best interest at heart.” * * * * * Beverly ended up suing me for improper termination. She lost, of course. Rafe and I continue to get closer and find that when we thought we couldn’t love each other any more than we do—we find new thresholds. He lives with me in Brooklyn now. Right now, Rafe and I are managing my career together. It wasn’t long after I parted ways with Beverly when I realized how well Rafe handled me and my situation when I returned from Hawaii. Even when we were kids, Rafe had my back. That started as soon as we hugged for the first time at the airport. Hell, his experience as a Broadway stage manager=and all of his organizational skills-has definitely worked well for me. The best part is that I’m not showing up in the gossip rags all that much anymore. Our moms have rekindled their friendship as well. Mom told me that a few ago, Rafe’s mom went up to the gossip biddies and told them to shut the fuck up—in temple, no less! Mom said that about fifty people applauded her for saying what so many people have wanted to say for years! Naomi, having confessed to breaking the NDA at Epic Life, admitted that she “was fed up with all of the gay shit” happening in the world. I was with my attorney and had just finished up the paperwork for a rather large lawsuit. Rafe was sitting with us and said, “Well, at least she helped us get back together—and I would probably thank her for making my life so fucking wonderful—if I ever saw her in person.” I decided that I didn't want a prolonged court case that would end up in the press. Instead, we negotiated that she would donate the money she got from Sanchez to HRC, in her name. Sure, Rafe and I would have eventually rekindled our relationship if Naomi had kept her mouth shut. But because she helped make everything go crazy for a few days, Rafe showed up at the airport and took me under his wing. Because of Naomi, that day had me back in Rafe’s life, telling the world who I indeed was on national television, and most importantly—led me into Rafe’s heart and soul—and him into mine. It still blows our minds that all of that happened in just one day. I still end every broadcast with my signature phrase, “Goodnight and Godspeed.” Sometimes, I rush out of the studio and make my way to the theatre so I can hang out in the office until Rafe is done for the night. Sometimes I take my time, spend an hour or so answering emails, and make my way to the theatre and go home with Rafe after he walks out of the stage door. The best part is I end up with Rafe in my arms every night now. Who knows what the future holds for us? I have finally learned not to worry about that. Rafe has taught me to live in the moment. However, we both agree that whatever this ride is we’re on, we most definitely don’t ever want to get off!
  15. GOODNIGHT & GODSPEED CHAPTER 9 – Going Home, Finding Home RAFE The first call from Greyson Myers surprised the fuck out of me, to be honest. To some degree, he has been somewhere in my mind nearly every day since I fucked up royally and kissed him. I felt like a teenager, what with the way my heart was almost pounding out of my chest. I mean, fuck! Greyson Myers called and wanted to talk to me—to ME! I know I shouldn’t be getting my hopes up, but the rejected sixteen-year-old inside of me finally found a glimmer of hope—hope that Greyson had finally accepted what I had been pretty sure of all the way back then. My former best friend—and still the love of my life—tells me he’s gay and wants a redo on that fateful kiss. I had to stroke off twice before I could calm down enough to even think about going to sleep—which totally sucked because Tuesday was a two-show day. I was running the matinee, too. I was walking to the theatre for the matinee and stopped at my favorite coffee shop for my morning medicine. That’s when I saw it—that fucking gossip rag with Grey’s face stuck to another man’s. I leaned in closer for a better look since the picture was a little fuzzy. Yes, that was Grey, alright—and fuck! Could that other dude be any hotter? Oh well, I don’t stand a chance now. With the time difference between New York and Hawaii, I’m pretty sure Grey had no idea about the latest headlines. I decided to wait until I got home to call him. I didn’t have to wait. I was walking home when my phone buzzed with a call from Grey. “Rafe.” “Hi, Grey. Everything okay with you?” “Yes? No? I don’t have a fucking clue?” “I get it. I saw the Buzz cover. Fucking Peter Sanchez—someday Kharma's going to bite that fucker in the ass and never let go.” “Too light of a sentence if you ask me. But hey—I don’t have a lot of time. I’m about to hop on a plane. I ended my retreat early and am on my way home. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon at uhmmm—here it is—3:37. I’d like to call you when I get home if that’s okay. “Of course, Grey. You can call me anytime you want. You don’t have to ask permission. Any special reason you’re coming home early?” “Yeah. I’m going on the air tomorrow night and tell the world I like dick now. Peter Sanchez does not get to out me on his terms. Well—that’s not exactly true. He told me that if I didn’t announce to my viewers that I was gay, he was going to publish his story in next week’s issue.” “Fucking bastard.” “Exactly. So—I get to talk to Mom before I go on air. Not looking forward to that, but she has to hear from me—face-to-face—before I tell the world. And then—because that’s just not enough excitement in my life—I’m going to fire my manager.” “Wow. I have to say though—for a man who’s world has been set on its end, you seem pretty calm and collected.” “I know, right?! It kind of surprises me, too. I mean, who the fuck am I? I’m supposed to be all stressed out over this bullshit.” “Maybe because it’s all bullshit, and once you get rid of it—the important things are there for you—you know—things like your family, your career, your long-lost best friend who is so fucking happy to be talking to you again—” “You are such a goofball—always have been. Look, as much as I would like to talk with you for the next hour, I need to make another call or two before I get on the plane. Now that I don’t have management, I get to take care of all this myself—but I get to take care of it MY way!” “Okay, Grey. Take care—and if there’s anything you find you need, please call me—anytime. Okay?” “You got it. Thanks!” “Ciao.” Well, fuck! Note to self: Don’t talk to Greyson Myers while walking home from the theatre. I’ve now walked three blocks past my building. I got home, and my mind was going crazy. If Grey was letting his manager go, then there wasn’t going to be anyone to help him get through all of the bullshit. I’m thinking that the fucking paparazzi were swarming the entrance to his building. Wait a minute. I’m 99% sure one of the people in the cast has talked about how she sees him all the time in her neighborhood. I called Janine to see if I could get any information. “Hey, Janine—sorry to call so late, but I need some help.” “No problem, Rafe. I was just chillin’ with some Netflix—alone. What’s up?” “I’m pretty sure this is a long-shot, but didn’t you mention that you see Greyson Myers around your neighborhood a lot?” “Yeah, he lives down the block from me.” “Have you noticed anything unusual around his building?” “Besides the twenty or so dudes with cameras? It’s just a typical day in the neighborhood.” “Fuck. Okay—that’s really all I needed to know. Thanks for your help.” “No worries, hon. I’ll see you tomorrow?” “No—I think I’m going to have to take a personal day tomorrow. Too much shit coming down the pike.” “Okay, then. Well—I hope everything works out.” “Me too, Janine. Me too.” I tried calling Grey to let him know that he might not want to go to his place when he got home, but the call went directly to voicemail. He was probably already on the plane. I called the lead stage manager next. I told her that I had a family emergency come up, and I needed to take a personal day tomorrow. She was super chill about it—probably because in two years, I’ve never called out for a show. The next step was to find out which flight from Honolulu Grey would be coming in on. As luck would have it, I decided to check with Laguardia first. There were only three flights from Honolulu tomorrow afternoon and only one—American—that was scheduled to arrive at 3:37. I’ll be there so he won’t end up going to Brooklyn. Grey doesn’t need to deal with all that bullshit. I decided that I would help Grey get through the next couple of days. No one should have to deal with all the crap on their own, right? For the second straight night, I had trouble sleeping. I was just so fucking excited that I was finally going to see Grey tomorrow afternoon! I woke up the next morning and began to clean the shit out of my apartment. I changed the sheets on my bed and put a fresh set on the sleeper-sofa in the living room. Grey would be staying with me for the next night or two. We would figure out the sleeping arrangements later—although I was hoping…” At 1:00, the apartment was clean. I had showered, spent way too much time on my hair, and then called for an Uber to take me to Laguardia. God, I hate Queens—just sayin’. As he was dropping me off at the terminal, my driver said that I didn’t have to call for a car when I was ready to leave. There was an Uber lot on the second level of the Terminal B garage. They had a special pick-up zone for Uber X, so we wouldn’t have to wait long at all. I got into the terminal and made my way to the baggage claim. I only had to wait around twenty minutes before I saw that Grey’s flight had arrived. I made my way over to the escalator and waited. He was one of the first off the plane. Nope. Can’t shout out his name. That would cause way too much attention. Well, there’s only one option. “Gary! Gary Mackolvich!” Ha! Grey turned to me and smiled. I had my own shit-eating grin plastered on my face. Once he stepped off the escalator, I ran to Grey and wrapped my arms around him. “I got you, Grey. My car is outside. Let’s get your bags and get the fuck outta here before anyone discovers you’re here.” “Oh my god! I can’t believe I’m holding on to you, Rafe! I want to kiss you right here, but—” “Oh, hell-the-fuck-no! We are not having our make-up kiss in the middle of fucking Queens! Even I have standards.” I gave Grey one more squeeze, and we made our way to the baggage claim. It took about thirty minutes before the bags finally started coming down the chute. God, I hate this airport! Probably because it’s in Queens. We finally made it to the Uber lot and got into the next car. Grey gave them his address in Brooklyn. “No, we’re going to my place. One of the cast members lives on your block and said that the paps were all over your place for the entire day. You don’t need that bullshit right now. You’re coming to my house so you can get ready for your newscast. I’m going to be with you tonight. I got myself covered for the show.” I held Grey’s hand while I was telling him about our plans. He didn’t seem to mind that I was handling all the details for him. Hey—it’s the stage manager in me. We take care of all the bullshit and situations that come up on a daily basis. Handling Grey’s stuff was totally in my wheelhouse. When I told him that I was going to be with him tonight, he seemed to relax a bit. For whatever reason he’s firing his manager, the main thing is that we find him another manager as soon as possible. Grey told me that he had so much to say, but I told him we needed to wait until we got home. The last thing we needed was the Uber driver—yet another stranger—blab to the press whatever he heard from his back seat. For some reason, Grey smiled and looked straight ahead. Only I noticed a single tear sliding down his face. I took my thumb and wiped it away before I leaned into his ear and whispered, “If that was a sad tear, I should let you know that I intend to make sure it’s the last sad tear you shed for a long, long time. If that’s a happy tear, then I guess I need to get ready for a lot more of those, because I promise to make sure that this new Greyson Myers is the fucking happiest Greyson Myers the world has ever seen.” Oh. My. Fucking. God. Greyson Myers placed his hands on either side of my face and pulled me in for a kiss that I will not forget for the rest of my life. I could feel a whimper rising out of my chest, but I had to stop the kiss before things went too far. I leaned into Grey’s ear and whispered, “Nice job on waiting, newsboy. We’ll finish that kiss when we get home.” Hey! Mr. Uber driver! Hurry the fuck up! I have a kiss to get back to! We finally made it to the apartment. After unloading Grey’s bags from the trunk, we climbed the stairs to my second-floor walk-up and made it inside. Without saying a word, Grey dropped his bags, pushed me against the closed door, and finished that kiss! Wow! Just wow! This time, I let that whimper escape—which only led to more whimpers that sounded like heaven with Grey’s moans. Now, I’ve kissed a lot of boys in my life—but there had never been a kiss that came anywhere close to this one! Grey was the one to break the kiss. “Jesus, Rafe. You have got to be one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid eyes on—not that I have a lot of experience laying eyes on other men—but, damn!” “Hey—I saw the picture from Hawaii. That dude was pretty amazing. I can’t even begin to compete with that.” “Yeah, Lucas was pretty awesome. But—I don’t know—there’s no competition. Kissing you just now—I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life.” He kissed me again. It wasn’t quite as intense, but it was still one of the best kisses I’ve ever had. “Look. If we don’t stop, I’m going to want to convince you to get into my bed—and then we would never make it to the studio. You have a big night ahead of you, Grey. You should start getting ready.” “You’re right. But—when this is all done tonight—do you think you might want to try to convince me when we get back?” “Anything you want, Grey—anything. I told you I’m here for you, didn’t I?” “Yeah. Hey—I wrote my statement while I was flying home. Would you mind looking at it and letting me know what you think?” “Of course. I would be honored.” Grey pulled out his laptop and fired it up. “Is it okay if I take a shower? I’ll leave you alone to read it while I’m in the bathroom.” “Yeah, sure. Let me get you a towel.” Grey opened his suitcase and pulled out a small bag of toiletries. I grabbed a towel and showed him where everything was. I returned to the living room and started reading. Jesus! Greyson Myers is a brilliant writer! His words brought tears to my eyes. He wrote with such honesty—so much clarity. I particularly loved the part about the press and Peter Sanchez. When Grey walked out of the bathroom—wrapped only in a towel—I’m pretty sure I gasped out loud. This man is a walking god—in my fucking living room! “What do you think?” “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I—I’m talking about your statement. I wouldn’t change a word.” Did that make Grey blush? Whoa. My stupidity made me blush. So I changed the subject and asked him what the plan was. He told me we needed to leave for the studio as soon as possible. He called for a driver and gave the address. They would be here in about fifteen minutes, so Grey went into the bedroom and got dressed. He came out wearing jeans and a polo shirt. I looked at him funny, and he told me that his suits were in his office. He then told me that his mother was going to be there. He wanted to talk to her about everything before he went on the air. Okay, now I was getting nervous. I haven’t seen Judy Mackolvich in sixteen years. She always scared the hell out of me. While Grey and I had so much in common while growing up, Jewish mothers were not one of those things. My mom was super-chill and progressive. Grey’s mother always seemed to be keyed up and tense. I remember Grey saying that she was always concerned about what others would think. This could be ugly. Oh well, I promised Grey I would be there for him. He must have seen the look of concern on my face when he said, “Don’t worry. I don’t think my mother is going to make a scene at the studio. There might be hell to pay later, but she should be okay while we’re there.” “Yeah. I don’t think Judy would like to give a poor impression of herself to the people you work with.” “Exactly. Let’s head downstairs. The car should be here any minute.” Sure enough, as soon as we walked out the door, Grey’s car pulled up. When we got to the studio, paps were surrounding the main entrance. It didn’t matter—the driver went around the corner and drove into a garage. He took us to the lower level and dropped us off at a secure entrance. Nice! We went up to the main lobby, and Grey signed me in. He left his mother’s name at the front desk and told them to send her up to his dressing room when she arrived. When Grey walked into the newsroom, he was greeted with applause and a standing ovation from everyone in their cubicles. Grey raised his hands to quiet the group. “Folks—thanks for your support. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. Bob told me that he was going to fill you in on what was going to happen tonight. It’s a strangely bizarre world we live in these days—a world where celebrity and journalism cross over into each other’s realms. I apologize for the distraction this mess has caused you. But if all goes well, we should be back to doing or regular—and excellent—work in the next day or so. I’ve sent my statement to Bob, and he assures me that he will share it with the entire team tomorrow morning. Thanks again, guys—you all rock my world.” Grey led me through the newsroom and down a hall. We went into his office-slash-dressing room and shut the door. “Jesus, Grey—when did you become so great with words? Did you have that speech memorized or something?” “No. It’s funny. I’ve never made a statement like that before. Beverly always did that sort of thing. Today—I just spoke from my heart. I told my truth. It feels fucking amazing, too!” I walked over to Grey and wrapped my arms around him. I kissed him on the cheek and said to him, “You fucking blow me away, Gary Macholvich. Fucking. Blow. Me. Away.” Our intimate moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was wardrobe—bringing a beautiful suit for Grey to wear on camera. He hugged her, thanked her, and told her she could send in make-up. He told me to have a seat and relax as he pulled the dress shirt off the hanger. He took off the polo and put on the dress shirt before sitting in the make-up chair. A few seconds later, there was a light tap on the door. A cute young man came in and set his case on the table in front of Grey. His name was Justin. He was almost in tears as he told Grey how proud he was to be a part of this night. “We need more people like you, Grey. Whenever someone famous comes out, it makes the world a little better for the rest of us. Someday—maybe in my lifetime—maybe not—but someday there will be a time when nobody needs to come out. They will just be who the fuck they are, and nobody else will give a shit.” “Wow, Justin. That was actually kind of beautiful. Do you mind if I share that tonight?” “You might want to drop the shits and the f-bombs. It’ll be better for your image.” “Fuck the image, Justin. You’re looking at the new Greyson Myers. Oh! I should introduce you—this is my oldest and dearest friend, Rafe Milner. He’s an assistant stage manager for Hamilton. Rafe—Justin—Justin—Rafe.” “It’s so nice to meet you, Rafe. How long have you two known each other?” “We met in the sixth grade—middle school. We uhm—drifted apart our sophomore year, but have just found each other again.” “Sounds like there’s some time to make up, then.” I looked over toward Grey and caught his eye in the lighted mirror. “Yes, Justin. Greyson and I have a lot of catching up to do.” As Justin was finishing with Greyson, there was another knock at the door. “Come in!” And there she was—Judy Macholvich. “Mother. Thank you for coming.” “Thank you for having me. I didn’t realize you had company. Should I wait outside?” “No, Mom. Do you remember Rafe?” “Rafe Miller? Is this really you?” I stood and met Mrs. M in the middle of the room. She gave me a light hug and kissed me on the cheek. “The years have been good to you, Rafe—very good. How are your mother and father?” “Mom is great—Dad’s no longer in the picture. They divorced about ten years ago, and Dad lives in Atlanta now.” “I’m so sorry to hear that, dear. Please give my best to your mother. I haven’t seen her in temple in such a long time.” “She doesn’t go anymore, but I’ll tell her you said hello.” “Now—Greyson—you said you wanted to talk. Do you want to do that with Rafe here?” “Most definitely, Mother. He’s a huge part of this.” “And just what is the ‘this’ you speak of?” “Rafe. Mom. Have a seat, please.” Mrs. M. and I sat on the sofa while Grey pulled his desk chair in front of us. He took a deep breath and sat. “Rafe—I would like to start at the beginning of this journey. Would you like to tell Mom what happened sixteen years ago?” “Sure. I don’t mind.” I turned to Mrs. M. and smiled. “I don’t know if you remember the weekend Greyson—or Gary back then—took me to your cabin for my sixteenth birthday.” “Yes, I remember. Something happened, and we never saw you again.” “That’s right. You see—that first night, I kissed Gary and told him that I was in love with him. I had been in love with your son since I realized two people could share those feelings. Well, that turned out to be the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life.” “It wasn’t dumb, Rafe. But—I broke off the kiss and told my best friend that I wasn’t gay. I hurt him so much. We hardly spoke the rest of the weekend—and came back a day early.” “I never tried to talk to your son, because I was so ashamed of what I had done. I insisted that Mom and Dad put me in a different school. We drifted so far apart.” “And I never tried to talk to Rafe because I was scared. I was so scared, Mom.” “How on earth could you be scared of this lovely boy? I don’t understand.” “Mom—I was scared because I really liked the kiss. I wanted more. I was in love with Rafe, too. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let myself be gay.” “Why not?” “Mom, your oldest son—my brother—drove you crazy with his antics. You were always embarrassed by the crap he pulled. You were mortified every time one of the women at the temple would say something about his stuff. The last thing you needed was to deal with your other son being gay. So I buried those feelings. I decided then and there that you were never going to be embarrassed by me.” “Greyson. What—I don’t—are you telling me you’ve lived a lie for the past sixteen years to protect me? How could you do that to Rafe? To Elizabeth—to yourself?” “Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have been mortified to have a gay son?” “Greyson. Sam is my first-born son. He might make me crazy at times—okay, a lot of the time—but he’s my boy. There’s absolutely nothing he could do that would make me love him less.” “But all of your friends at temple would say things, and it would upset you.” “I was never upset because of what they would say—and I have never considered those old biddies my friends. Did you ever see any of them in our home? Of course not—because those women were not my friends. They are nothing but judgemental, gossiping bitches. Yes, they would anger me. But I was angry because of what they were doing—not because of what they were saying.” “Wow—Mom, I never knew.” “Mrs. M. May I say something?” “Yes, Rafe. And please—call me Judy. We’re all adults here.” “Okay. I just wanted to say those women are the main reason my mother stopped going to temple.” “I can’t say that I blame her. I would have stopped going years ago, but—before he died—I promised my husband that I would keep going. I’m sorry, Greyson. We got off-track. Did you have more to tell me?” “Yes, actually. I never told you that it was Beverly, my manager, who insisted that Elizabeth and I got married. She said it would be the spark that would set off our careers. 90% of the stories you would read about the two of us were all set up by Beverly. Now—you should know that Elizabeth and I have always loved each other—we were just never in love with each other. Don’t worry—I’ve had this conversation with her already. We’re both in good places and still love each other. And she’s very happy now. That makes me happy.” “Beverly—I never liked that woman. I always felt she was guiding your careers for her own benefit—never for yours.” “I couldn’t agree more, Mom. That’s why I’m letting her go tomorrow. But I do have to say the best thing she ever did was book me on the retreat to Hawaii. It changed my life—it changed my life forever.” “How so?” “It made me realize that I need to stop living my life to make everyone around me happy. I get to live my life—and make my choices—so I’m happy for a change. The retreat also made me realize that it was never too late to fix the stupid mistakes you’ve made in your life. The first person I called was Rafe. Like he said when he called me back—‘it took you long enough!’ “I called Elizabeth and apologized to her for seven years of a sham marriage. It was so nice to let down all my defenses and talk with Elizabeth the way we used to talk so long ago.” “Why didn’t you call me?” “Because this is the talk I need to have with you. It had to be face-to-face.” “And that young man you were photographed kissing? How does he fit into all of this?” “The first thing we did on the very first day was to get a partner for the retreat. Lucas was an amazing partner. He helped me through all of my questioning. He showed me what was possible. And I helped him just as much with his issues. “You see, on that particular day, Lucas had an extremely emotional and challenging session with the leader of the retreat. He had so many breakthroughs. After dinner, we decided that we needed a walk on the beach. When we got to the edge of the lagoon, he had another emotional episode. I helped him through the ordeal, and when things were calm again—I kissed him. It was a kiss of comfort—nothing sexual. But the paparazzi were the last thing on my mind. No one knew we were there. I didn’t even tell you all the details of my trip if you remember.” “Is this Lucas your boyfriend now?” “No. I will always love Lucas for everything he has done for me. Lucas will always love me for helping him see things. But we aren’t in love with each other. And yes—Mom, I’m gay. I’m good with that. For the first time in my life, I’m comfortable in my own skin.” “You know, Greyson—before your father died, we had a lot of conversations. A lot of them were about our children. He told me back then he thought there might be a chance you would be gay. He made me promise that I would love you regardless of who you loved. And, just so you know, that was the easiest promise I gave your father—and there were a lot of them.” There was another knock on the door. The voice on the other side said, “Places in ten, Greyson.” He called out, “Thank you, ten.” “I love you, Mom. I’m so ashamed that I have misjudged you all these years. I can’t believe how much I have fucked up over the last sixteen years.” “I’m still your mother, Greyson—watch your mouth.” “Let me wrap this up while I finish dressing.” Greyson put on his tie and then his jacket while he kept talking. “The reason I’m making a statement tonight is that I want the public to know the real Greyson Myers—and I want them to know on MY terms. Peter Sanchez—the man who wrote yesterday’s article is planning to out me in next week’s issue. Most likely, his story is filled with lies and assumptions. Tonight—everything changes for Greyson Myers—and the story planned for next week will be killed.” “Peter Sanchez is a total asshole. He’s even worse than the temple biddies.” I don’t know why, but that struck me as one of the funniest things I’ve heard in a long, long time. I just started laughing out loud. “God! I’ve so missed this family!” “Then, don’t wait sixteen years to talk to my son again.” “I promise that’s not going to happen, Mom. I’m never letting Rafe go again.” “Time to go, Greyson. You’re on in five.” “Thank you, five!” “Let’s go then!” Greyson walked to the door and opened it. “Greyson—aren’t you forgetting your pants?” “No, Mom. I never wear suit pants under the desk. This is what I wear every night.” “Dear God—I had no idea!” We stood outside the studio door until the red light turned off. Greyson took us inside and pointed to a couple of director’s chairs that had been placed behind the cameras. “Well—here goes nothing, I guess!” “I’m proud of you, Greyson. I love you.” Mrs. M.—ermm, Judy—hugged her son and then took her seat. It was my turn, dammit! I hugged Greyson and said, “I love you, Grey. You got this!” Greyson took his place behind the desk and smiled out at his mother and me. God, I love that smile—pretty sure I have entirely fallen—no, refallen—in love the man behind it, too. And then… “Five.” “Four.” “Three.” “Two.” “One.” “Cue music in.”
  16. FlyOnTheWall

    The Pool

    Anton--please don't be discouraged from commenting. I so appreciate all that you have to say. With all the stuff going on in the world today, the people here at GA just don't want any political commentary. It's not an attack on you by any means. I just don't want you to be discouraged from your valuable input! Thanks! -Geoff
  17. GOODNIGHT & GODSPEED CHAPTER 8 – Handling It “Grey? Are you okay? Is it true?” “Fuck! Fuck my life!” “I know you don’t mean that, Grey. You also know you can talk to me. We were best friends way before we got married. We still can be.” “Really? You don’t hate me?” Elizabeth laughed her big, raucous laugh that I’ve actually missed hearing. “Why the hell would I hate you? I could never hate you, baby. Sure—things were awkward for a few months, but I’m quite happy now. I hope you are, too.” “I am actually. Well—at least I was until about three minutes ago. Fuck--my phone is going to be ringing its ass off in the next couple of hours.” “Would you like to talk about it while you have me on the phone? Just like old times?” “Yes—I actually would. That’s the reason I called you.” “I’m listening, Grey. I can still be your shoulder.” “So, with all the pressure after the divorce and all, Beverly sent me to this retreat in Hawaii. It’s one of those things where they help you find your true self, help you see the possibilities, teach you how to live outside the box—that kind of thing.” “Sounds like Epic Life.” “Yeah, it is. How did you know?” “Jason did the Epic Life thing right before we met. He said it was life-changing.” “He’s definitely right about that.” “And that’s where you met this guy you were kissing on the beach? Total hottie, by the way.” “Yeah, the first day of the retreat, you get paired off with a partner who you spend a lot of time with for the two weeks. He’s helped me learn and see so much about myself—and somehow—I’ve done that for Lucas, too.” “And the kiss?” “If I remember, Lucas had just been through a particularly difficult session—his boyfriend recently died. We walk around the lagoon after those tough days and talk. He had a bit of a breakdown, and I did what I needed to do to help him through it—just like he’s helped me with my issues.” “Your issues?” “Well, the strange thing is that I didn’t even realize what my issues were until the program started. They have this strange way of helping you find them right off the bat.” “What did you find, Grey?” “That I’ve been lying to myself for the past fifteen or sixteen years—that I lied to you the entire time we were married. I’m so sorry for that, Elizabeth—it turns out I’m gay.” “And?” “That’s it? I tell you this huge piece of information, and all you can say is ‘and?’” “Greyson—I love you with all my heart—I always will. But even you have to admit that our sex life wasn’t much to write home about.” “Ha! Like I could write to my mother about anything having to do with sex! But—think about it—you were the first and only person I had ever had sex with—I had nothing to compare. I had no idea if the sex was good or bad.” “And now you know?” “Ummm. Yeah. It wasn’t horrible—but it definitely wasn’t great, either.” “Grey—it’s okay to admit it was horrible. But you have to know that you weren’t horrible. You’re an amazing man—and this Lucas guy is a very lucky man.” “Oh—about that—Lucas and I are—and always will be—extremely close. But—we’re not boyfriends.” “I’m sure you’ll find one soon enough!” “We’ll see. There’s a lot of other shit I have to take care of before I can even think about a relationship.” “Yeah?” “Oh yeah—like the big talk with Judy. I’m not looking forward to telling her I’m gay—but I’m going to. I have to.” “If she’s been to the grocery store, she already knows. She’s probably waiting for you to call her.” “Right. I really want to have that talk face-to-face—just like my talk with Beverly.” “Beverly? She probably has the gay thing figured out by now, too.” “Yes, but it’s time for me to rethink my management. I can’t live my life for appearances any longer. It’s time for me to live my life where I can make a difference—where I can stop worrying about what the public image is.” “Finally!” “What? Finally what?” “Grey—for as long as I’ve known you, you have done nothing but make decisions based on how happy they would make everyone but yourself. At first, I thought it was this adorable, sweet side of Greyson Myers. After a few years, it made me terribly sad. People love you, Grey—gay or straight. But there’s one thing you need to figure out.” “What’s that, Elizabeth?” “Who tipped off the paps that you were in Hawaii? Beverly wouldn’t even tell me where you were going.” “Shit. I didn’t even think of that. It had to have been someone here at the retreat.” “And then there’s Pete Sanchez—he’s that bitchy gossip queen with the Buzz. He’s going to try to out you and make it a huge story.” “But he doesn’t know anything—how could he?” “Perhaps the person who told him you were there shared some of the information you shared with the others. Jason mentioned there was an exercise where you end up baring your soul—and it can be pretty intense.” “Shit. I didn’t even think of that. We all had to sign an NDA the first day we were here. If someone actually did contact the rag, there’s gonna be hell to pay.” “It could get kind of messy, Grey—especially if Pete Sanchez is a part of this. He loves outing celebs.” “I’m sure I’ll be hearing from him if he is a part of this. Fuck.” “Hey, I think you know what you’re going to have to do. But if you need anything—and I mean anything—let me know. I’m here for you, baby. I still love the shit out of you—believe it or not.” “I love you, too. I’m sorry about the marriage and divorce thing, Elizabeth. I just want you to be happy.” “I’m happy, Grey. Even happier now that I know the real reason our sex life wasn’t all that!” “It wasn’t terrible.” “Yes, Grey—it was!” She laughed. At least I know she wasn’t terribly pissed. “So—I guess I should let you go. I guess I need to call Beverly now.” “Okay, Grey. I’m here—and I’ve got your back. I’m sure that bastard Sanchez will be calling soon enough. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll put him in his place!” That made me smile—she definitely will put that gossip queen right where he deserves to be. We ended our call, and it didn’t even take ten seconds for Beverly to call. Okay—here goes nothing! “This is Grey.” “Greyson. What the hell is going on there in Hawaii? Kissing another man out in public?” “And how are you, Beverly?” “Don’t be smug with me, Greyson. My job is to help you get out of the little slips and mistakes you have made over the years—but this? Kissing a man on the beach? Are you gay, Greyson?” “You need to chill out a bit, Beverly—and yes—I’m gay.” “Chill out? Do you know what this is going to do to your public image? The world loves the Greyson Myers who is—or was—married to one of the top models in the world. They won’t accept the Greyson Myers that’s kissing random boys on a Hawaiin beach!” “Oh, Jesus Christ, Beverly—shut up for a minute. It’s my turn to talk.” “Did you just tell me to shut up?” “Yes. Now listen to me—and listen well. I’m gay. That’s why my sham marriage never was going to work—the sham marriage you insisted on, by the way. And fuck the god-damned image. That’s not my image—that’s the image you created. There are plenty of openly-gay news anchors in the business. Who they love has absolutely nothing with their credibility as a journalist.” “But this isn’t you, Greyson.” “This is me, Beverly! This may not be the Greyson you have created, but it is me. Now—and I need you to be completely honest with me. Has a Peter Sanchez been in touch?” “Oh, Jesus! Yes, Greyson. He won’t leave me alone. He insists on talking to you before he published his story on your Hawaiian activities.” “Did he share any of his information with you?” “Nothing much—but he did mention a boy from high school that you were going to find when you returned to the city.” “Okay. That’s all I need to know. Someone from the Epic Life retreat broke their NDA. No one else knew about Rafe. Now—I need you to give me Sanchez’s contact info. I need to have a few words with him.” “That’s my job, Greyson.” “No—I’m going to do this my way, Beverly. We’ll talk about it more when I get back. But this is a bit of an emergency, and I need to deal with things in real-time—without a third-party moderator.” “I hope you know what you’re doing, Greyson. I’ll contact the network and see how they want to proceed.” “No, Beverly. I’ll be handling the network on this. You see—this is the most personal thing I have going on my life. This has nothing to do with the Greyson Myers you created. I’m handling ME in my own way. Please text me that contact information, and I’ll let you know when I get back to the city. Goodbye, Beverly.” I ended the call and went downstairs to the conference room. I sure hope Francesca is there! The doors were locked, so I knocked—I knocked four times before someone finally answered. It was Heather, one of the other group leaders. “Hello, Greyson. Can I help you?” “I hope so. I need to speak with Francesca. It’s an emergency that needs to be handled right away.” Heather smiled and said she would be right back. In less than a minute, Francesca came to the door. “Yes, Greyson. Is there something I can do for you?” “Is there somewhere we can talk in private? There’s a situation, and I may have to leave as soon as I can get a flight.” Francesca took me to the front of the room, out of earshot from the other group leaders. “It appears someone has contacted a weekly gossip rag and told them I was here—as well as some of the details of my private conversations that have taken place.” “What do you mean, Greyson?” I pulled up the photo Elizabeth sent me, showing her the cover of the Buzz. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Greyson. I will put our legal team on this right away. We’ll figure out who is behind this. You also said private information had been shared?” “I just got off the phone with my soon-to-be-former manager. She said that they have been trying to contact me. They also said they had information on me wanting to find my high school sweetheart when I returned to the city. They are apparently talking about Rafe—and no one—absolutely no one—knows anything about Rafe except the people who were in this room during my one-on-one session.” “Are you okay? Do you know what you are going to do?” “Yes, I’m surprisingly okay. I can’t tell you how freeing it is to have told Beverly that this was about me—not the image of me that she created. I said I was going to handle this my way, and she didn’t have to do a thing.” “That’s wonderful, Greyson. Can you share your plans?” “It’s all pretty new and most likely will change, but after I talk with you, I’m calling my bosses at NNN to tell them what’s going on, and that I need to get back on the air as soon as possible.” “How will they take the news?” “Are you kidding? When Anderson Cooper came out on the air, they were frustrated that they didn’t have a gay anchor who could come out as well. When Don Lemon told his CNN audience that he was gay, I think the bosses wanted to see if any of their anchors would at least pretend to be gay so the network would look just as progressive as the competition.” “Gotta love show business, right?” “Yeah—you get it. Anyway, after I talk with the network, I get to speak with the man who wrote that article. If he follows his pattern, which I’m sure he will, he will be publishing a story in the next issue—using all the private information that was shared with him from my One-on-One. The reason I need to leave is so I can get on the air and come out at the end of my first broadcast—on MY terms.” Francesca took my hands in hers—then she smiled. “We will all miss having you with us, Greyson. I’ve seen hundreds of people make their way through this program. Nearly all of them have enormous breakthroughs and can make some wonderful changes in their lives. “Very few people have transformed themselves like you have, Greyson. Do you need the rest of the program? Probably not. Would you have benefitted from the rest of the week? Probably. But I can say with great assurance that the others in the group would have significantly benefitted from your further participation. It seems you have a lot of plans to get underway. I can assure you we will do everything we can to find out who leaked your private information to the press.” Francesca stood and took me in her arms. “I’m so proud of you, Greyson. And I’m especially proud to have spent this time with you. I will stay in touch.” “Thank you for everything, Francesca. You have changed my life.” “No, I just guided you in the right direction. You have changed your own life.” LUCAS Whoa. It seems the shit has hit the fan with Greyson. To say I was shocked when he showed me the cover of that American gossip magazine is an understatement. On the other hand, I was blown away by how calm Grey was. He was handling the situation remarkably well. Yes, I’m sad that he’s leaving Hawaii tonight. I know we’ll be staying in touch. In just ten days, we’ve developed quite a history together. When we went back to the conference room, Francesca was not pleased. She told us that someone in the room had broken their Non-Disclosure Agreement and that we would not be leaving the room until she knew who it was. Fortunately, or unfortunately—it didn’t take very long to learn who the culprit was. Jack was going to take each of us into another room where he and Francesca would talk with us. They would as several questions—designed to discover if we were the person who leaked Grey’s information to the press. They definitely knew what they were doing. It seems like they have had to do this before. Right before they were to speak with the last person in the group, Jack and Francesca came out of the room—alone. Francesca spoke with us first. She said Naomi admitted that she was the person who leaked the information. Naomi told Francesca that it was for the money—that she didn’t mean to cause any harm to Greyson. She had medical bills that needed to be taken care of, and this was a way to make sure that was done. Francesca then talked to the entire group, told them what had been discovered, and then spoke about the importance of the NDA. She explained to the group everything that Grey was going to have to do now that private and personal information had been leaked to the press. Francesca talked about how we should be committed to the success of each and every person in the room. She wrapped up by bragging about Greyson’s new-found confidence and steadfast determination. She knew that everything was eventually going to work out precisely the way it needed to. I was so proud of Greyson—but I was going to miss him terribly. GREYSON I got to the room after my talk with Francesca. The first thing I did was book the next flight back to New York. It cost a pretty penny, but it was so well worth it. I have a lot to do! I will be back in the city tomorrow afternoon. I called Bob Jernigan, the network president. I told him what was going on and that I needed to make a special announcement at the end of tomorrow’s newscast. He suggested that my sub do the newscast tomorrow and that he would let me do the last segment, Greyson’s Take, which I usually did at the end of every newscast. That worked for me as long as I could go back on the air the following night. Bob agreed and assured me that the network supported me and was behind me 100%. While I knew they would be, it did feel good to hear that reassurance first-hand. The hardest part was saying goodbye to Lucas. There were quite a few tears, but the hug and kisses were there to help ease the pain. We promised to stay in touch. Hell, how could I not keep in touch with the man who was so instrumental in me finding myself? Two hours later, I was in a limo on my way to the airport. I called Rafe to see if he had seen the story. He said he had, but after our talk, he wasn’t too concerned. He had a feeling I was on top of it. I told him I was and that I was heading back to the city a few days early. I told him when I would be arriving, and that I would contact him as soon as I got back home. The next call was to my mother. She had called three times, and I didn’t answer. She would probably be more pissed about that anything else. “Mom…” “Greyson! Are you okay? What the heck are you doing in Hawaii?” “I told you I was going to Hawaii. I’m here for a conference.” “Some conference! I saw that magazine in the grocery store. At first, I thought it was a mistake, but then I looked closely. That was definitely my son—kissing another man on a public beach. Do you have anything to say about that?” “Yes, mother. I have a lot to say. But I’m going to say it face-to-face. We’re not going to have this conversation over the phone. I’ll be back in the city tomorrow. I’ll be doing my Take segment at the end of tomorrow’s newscast. I would like you to be in the studio when I do it. Can you make that happen?” “Yes, Grey. I’ll be there.” “If you can get there about an hour early, I would like to talk with you before I go on. It’s very important to me, Mom. Please do this for me?” “Of course, Greyson. I’ll see you tomorrow night, then. Just one thing—are you okay?” “Mom—despite all the crap going on, I’ve never been better in my life.” “Okay, son. I’m going to trust you on this. Goodbye. I love you.” “I love you, too. Bye.” Well, that was a pleasant surprise. Mom wasn’t hysterical. She seemed genuinely relieved when I told her that I was okay. At least she agreed to meet me at the studio. I know she won’t go into hysterics and make a scene there. My first flight was a puddle-jumper to the Honolulu airport. I had a 90-minute layover before my direct flight to Laguardia. During that layover, I got the email I had been expecting from Beverly. It had Sanchez’s contact information—along with a detailed explanation of her concerns for my well-being. Whatever. About ten minutes later, I got the email I had been waiting for all day: Hello Greyson, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be publishing a story based on the information I have received regarding your newly-discovered sexual preferences. I should say that I know about your desire to find the boy you were in love with in high school. All I know is that his name is Rafe. I also know that you are about to change management. After speaking with Beverly, I have to say you are making the right decision on that front. I don’t want to make life difficult for you, Greyson. But I feel that your viewers have a right to know who the real person is behind the one they see in their living rooms every night. As with any other story of this nature, I will not let my story go to print if you are able to speak the truth to your viewers before Friday of this week. If the world hasn’t heard from Greyson Myers by then, my story will be published in the next issue of The Weekly Buzz. Sincerely, Peter Sanchez Fucking bastard! I’m so going to call that son-of-a-bitch out tomorrow night! He needs to stop this bullshit! My flight was finally called, and I made it from the American lounge to my seat in First Class. I settle in with a quick cocktail, and I think I was asleep before the plane was even halfway into its ascent. I slept most of the way back to the city. I woke up for some breakfast, which wasn’t bad—but was pure shit compared to the food I’d been eating in Hawaii. I think the smartest thing I had done was turn my phone completely off once I got on the place. There were no waiting calls, messages, or emails for me to worry about. I’ll handle all of that once I get back on the ground and into my apartment. After my second cup of coffee, the captain announced we were beginning our descent into Laguardia. It’s funny—the “old” Greyson would be a stressed-out maniac about this time. Now—it was calm in my resolve. I really do like this taking control of things in my way! I think the best part of flying First Class is that you get to be the first off the plane. You don’t have to deal with the crowds nearly as much, either. As soon as we touched down, I turned my phone on so I could arrange for my Uber to take me home. Of course, there were a ton of messages and emails. I surprised myself when I ignored them. As soon as I got off the escalator to the baggage claim, I heard someone yelling my name—well, my old name. Weird. “Gary! Gary Mackolvich! Over here!” Fuck! It was Rafe. He ran up to me, wrapped his arms around me, and spoke into my ear. “I got you, Grey. My car is outside. Let’s get your bags and get the fuck outta here before anyone discovers you’re here.” “Oh my god! I can’t believe I’m holding on to you, Rafe! I want to kiss you right here, but—” “Oh, hell-the-fuck-no! We are not having our make-up kiss in the middle of fucking Queens! Even I have standards.” We went to the baggage claim and waited. We really didn’t talk. All I could do was steal glances at the incredibly hot man my formerly skinny and scrawny best friend had become. We finally got my bags, and I followed Rafe to the Uber lot. We got into his car, and I gave the driver my address. “No, we’re going to my place. One of the cast members lives on your block and said that the paps were all over your place for the entire day. You don’t need that bullshit right now. You’re coming to my house so you can get ready for your newscast. I’m going to be with you tonight. I got myself covered for the show.” The entire time he was talking, Rafe held my hand. It was one of the nicest feelings I’d had in a long time. I told him I had so much to say to him, but he said wait. He didn’t want me saying anything that the driver could hear. In my ear, he whispered, “You should know by now that you can’t trust anyone you don’t know. When we get home, you can tell me everything—after the kiss you promised.” He lightly kissed my ear and said, “Welcome home, Grey. You have nothing to worry about. I’ve got your back—just like I always did.” I had this incredible sense of peace wash over me. Rafe squeezed my hand, and I watched the traffic go by as we were making our way into the city. I had this half-smile glued to my face when a single tear rolled down my cheek. Rafe wiped the tear away with his thumb while leaning into me one more time. “If that was a sad tear, I should let you know that I intend to make sure it’s the last sad tear you shed for a long, long time. If that’s a happy tear, then I guess I need to get ready for a lot more of those, because I promise to make sure that this new Greyson Myers is the fucking happiest Greyson Myers the world has ever seen.” Fuck it! I couldn’t wait any longer. I placed my hand on either side of Rafe’s face and pulled him in for the kiss I’ve been waiting for for the past several days. Whoa! What a kiss! But Rafe suddenly broke the kiss and whispered to me, “nice job on waiting, newsboy. We’ll finish that kiss when we get home.” I don’t know which part of that I liked the best. Was it the “we” part? Was it “home?” Or was it the combination of “we” and “home” so close together in the same sentence? Remember that half-smile I told you about? Well, it was a full-fledged, fucking big-ass grin the rest of the way to Rafe’s apartment. Fuck! What the hell was in store once we get there? That made my smile even bigger.
  18. GOODNIGHT & GODSPEED CHAPTER 7 – Rafael Milner “Hello? This is Greyson.” “You fucking son-of-a-bitch! It took you long enough! What? Sixteen fucking years?” “Rafe.” “Oh, fuck—it really is you.” “Oh, Rafe—I’m—I don’t—You—” “Shhh. It’s okay. Good thing we’re doing this by phone.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Because when I try not to bawl my eyes out, I get one of the ugliest faces you would ever see. And you would run away again—and then—” “Hey, I’m bawling my eyes out, too. How are you? What have you been up to? You’re in New York?” “Jesus, you need to work on your interview skills, Grey.” Finally! Someone started to laugh. “Yes, I’m in New York. I’m one of the assistant stage managers for Hamilton. And yes, I ended up with a degree in theatre from NYU. And you—I guess I know what you’re doing now. I pretty much watch you every night.” “How do you watch me if you’re at the theatre?” “I might—or might not—DVR you on Hulu.” “Oh—wow. That’s so—” “Shut up! Don’t get a big head. A lot of people do that. Yours is the best daily news on the air. You don’t take sides, and you pay as much attention to the non-political shit as you do the political bullshit.” “Yeah. That was the one thing I insisted on when I started this gig.” “Grey?” “Yeah?” “Seriously, why—after all this time—did you get in touch with me? I know it wasn’t to chit chat about our careers.” “Well, I’m doing some serious work on myself and my life. I’m in Hawaii on a not-so-relaxing retreat. Well, to be honest, this process has opened the Rafe floodgates—and I need to clear some shit up with you.” “Hey—Grey—that was sixteen or so years ago. We were both kids, we both made mistakes, and we both moved on.” “You didn’t do anything wrong, Rafe.” “Yeah? I kissed my straight best friend, professed my undying love, and when he rejected me, I shut myself off and made my parents put me into another school. I wanted to call you and apologize so many times—but I couldn’t do it. I was so fucking embarrassed and—well—ashamed.” “I pushed you away. I never had a thought of how incredibly difficult it might have been for you to kiss me—or tell me you loved me. And I didn’t try to contact you, either. I couldn’t. Talking to you again scared the shit out of me.” “Scared you? All this time you were scared—and now you’re not? What the hell scared you, Grey?” “All this time, I’ve been telling myself that you scared me—that I was afraid of you. But now—now I know the truth. I wasn’t scared of you. I was afraid of myself—and the truth.” “The truth? What are you saying? Are you trying to—” “The truth is—I’m sorry—this is kind of hard. The truth is—I was scared because I really liked it when you kissed me. I was scared that all the feelings I had held inside for you probably meant that I was in love with my best friend. But I was terrified that I was gay and my mother would find out. That wouldn’t have been a—” “And how is Judy Mackalvich?” “Oh, pretty much the same—for now, at least—that might change soon enough.” “Sorry, I interrupted—I’m still a rude motherfucker.” “So—here in Hawaii—I have been paired with this guy from Switzerland. His name is Lucas. Earlier last week, he kissed me—and I broke off the kiss, told him I wasn’t gay and ran out of the room. Sound familiar?” “Hmph—yeah.” “Only this time, all I could see was you. All I could see was the hurt on your face when I had said the same thing to you all those years ago. It was like traveling back in time. All I wanted to do was take you in my arms, tell you I loved you, and kiss the fuck out of those pouty lips.” “Grey, are you saying—” “Well—long story short—Lucas gave me some time and then came down to my suite. We had a long and amazing talk. He helped me realize—and accept—a lot about myself that I had been pushing away for years. “Please don’t hate me—although you have every right to—but, Rafe—You were right all those years ago, and yes—I’m gay. If there’s one wish I have in this world—it’s that I could go back sixteen years. I would kiss you back. I would tell you that I really did love you. And then we would have had hot, teenage sex—which probably would have been awkward and wouldn’t have lasted very long.” There was silence on the other end of the call. Well, I guess I fucked up again. This was such a bad idea! “You there? I’m so, so sorry if I—” “I’m here.” “Are you okay?” “The main thing is—are you okay?” “I’m good, Rafe. Even better now that I can finally be honest with you—and myself.” “You know—I never hated you for breaking off that kiss. I hated myself more. I hated that I made assumptions about you—about us. I hated that I put you in a position that kinda freaked you out. Mom kept saying to give you time—that you’d get things figured out. I guess she was right.” “I don’t think she figured on sixteen years, huh?” “Probably not. Not that I have been obsessed with you for sixteen years—at least I didn’t think so. I remember when I got the ASM job at Hamilton, my boyfriend at the time wasn’t too happy about all the time it was going to keep us apart. A few weeks into the job, he broke up with me and said that I could learn to be happy with my obsessive fantasy of Greyson Myers. Danny and I had been together for almost eighteen months. That was the longest relationship I’ve ever had. There were a few others. Nothing much to write home about, though. “Maybe Danny was right. Maybe I was a little obsessed with you. Watching you on television five nights a week and reading about you nearly every day. But hearing you tell me this—that you are gay makes me wonder what things would have been like if we had had this conversation sixteen years ago. Part of me is happy for you. Part of me is angry at you. Part of me is scared for you and what this could do to your career.” “I get it. I’m certainly not going to tell you how to feel about all this. How you feel is your choice, and I’ll honor that choice. And trust me, I have several other calls to make—I just had to call you first—you were the most important person I betrayed.” “You didn’t betray me, Grey. If you betrayed anyone, it might have been yourself—and I totally get your reasons.” “So—do you have any questions?” “Just one—this guy from Switzerland—is he, uhm—like your boyfriend now?” “Lucas is an amazing man—but he’s going through a lot of his own shit right now. I will always love Lucas for what he’s shown me—for what he’s taught me—for what he’s helped me see. Boyfriend? No—I don’t see how that could even work... And besides, he lives and works in Switzerland. I don’t see having a boyfriend living several thousands of miles away. Especially now—because all I can think of is kissing you again so we can at least make that mistake right.” “Oh, Jesus. I never thought I would hear you say those words, Grey. But I don’t know. I shouldn’t be the one to hold you back from something you want—not after sixteen years. It’s been a long, long time.” “I’m not saying that we’re going to kiss and suddenly fall in love to the point where you move into my Brooklyn loft or I meet you every night at the stage door.” “Brooklyn? I do love me some Brooklyn.” God, it was nice to laugh again. Even when we were kids, Rafe always knew the perfect time to drop a one-liner and crack me—or both of us—up. “Thanks. I needed that laugh. It was getting a little heavy there.” “Yeah. So—what do we do now?” “Can I call you when I get back to the city? I would love to see you again.” “You just want that kiss, don’t you!” “Well—we can add that to the schedule of events—but if anything—I just want to see you, Rafe. I want to see if I can get my best friend back in my life.” “Then let’s make that happen. It will be awesome seeing you in person—not just on my phone or laptop.” “I have your number in my phone now. I’ll be in touch and call you when I get back. I leave Hawaii Sunday night and will be back in the city Monday afternoon.” “Sounds good. And Grey—?” “Yeah?” “Thanks for calling. It means more than you’ll ever know.” “You can show me Monday night.” “Yeah? Careful what you ask for.” “I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Rafe. Thanks for calling me back.” “G’nite, Newsboy. Talk to you soon.” We ended the call, and I stayed out on the balcony. Now I was curious. I needed to look up Rafe and, at the very least, see what sixteen years have done to the boy! Nothing—absolutely nothing. I pulled up my phone and sent Rafe a text. ANCHORGREY: How can I stalk you online if you don’t have a shred of presence? HAMILRAFE: Ha! It’s milNer now. Union already had a Rafe Miller, so I had to change my name. ANCHORGREY: Ahhh, Got it. Back to my stalking! <3 HAMILRAFE: Enjoy! And btw—thanks for calling. Meant a lot. ANCHORGREY: Same First up—Instagram. I find a couple of Rafe Milners, but none of them look anything like Rafe used to look. I tried Rafael Milner. There! Just one—and hoooooly fuck! Rafe is hot! I went to a few other social media pages—same pic. I can’t believe he got a tattoo! Does his mother know? Jesus! I have got to get over this worrying-about-mothers thing I have going. I learned a little bit more about Rafe while I was stalking him. He was with the Hamilton company while they were still Off-Broadway. After moving into the Richard Rogers, the producers asked him to stage-manage the first national touring company for a year. He returned to the Broadway company two months ago. He’s a busy man—and apparently quite good at what he does. I checked the time on my phone and couldn’t believe it was already 3:37. I sent a text to Lucas to see how he was doing. He said he was fine and that he had a chance to talk to Erik’s sister. He said it was pretty emotional, but a lot of that was probably because it was the middle of the night back in Switzerland. He asked how my afternoon was, and I told him I had a nice, long conversation with Rafe. He called me. “How was that for you?” “It was good. I was able to speak with Rafe’s mother, and she gave him my cell number. He called me back within five minutes.” “You sound excited.” “I am—and confused—and scared, too.” “You want to talk about it?” “Yeah. Maybe over dinner. Let’s eat by the pool and walk on the beach after, okay?” “Sounds perfect. I’ll see you in a bit. Heading downstairs now.” “Ciao.” “Bye.” I stepped out of the elevator just as the other one opened. Lucas stepped out and smiled at me. He must have had a difficult conversation with Erik’s sister. “You okay?” “Yeah. I am now. It was a pretty emotional conversation—especially when I read my letter to Angela.” “Whoa—I can only imagine how emotional that got.” “Let’s go in and wrap up this day.” We went back into the room. The chairs were in the large circle, which could only mean we were in for some sharing. Hopefully, I wouldn’t be included in that! Once we were all seated, Francesca walked around the circle, making eye contact with everyone. “Well, I can see that many of you had a pretty significant breakthrough this afternoon. Of course, a significant breakthrough can also mean some considerable emotional roller coasters. Now, with just a show of hands, how many of you attempted to contact the person to whom you wrote your letter?” All but a few people—including Lucas—raised their hands. “Now—how many of you succeeded in speaking with that person?” A little more than half of the group kept their hands raised. “That’s very good. The typical percentage is somewhere around a third of the group. Greyson—why don’t you share with us your experience this afternoon?” I think that woman is psychic. She had to know I was hoping she wouldn’t call on me—so she did! I took a deep breath and started: “Okay—I didn’t’ know where to begin, but I remembered that I had the Miller’s land-line number in my phone all those years ago. I scrolled through and was surprised to find it still in my contacts. I dialed it and was happy and surprised to hear Mrs. Miller’s voice. “We talked a bit, and she said she would give Rafe my number and have him call me back. It only took five minutes for my phone to buzz, but I have to admit it was probably the longest five minutes of my life. “It was crazy, though. The first think out of Rafe’s mouth was just like something he would have said all those years ago. I don’t know if I should say it, though.” “Go ahead—we’re all adults here.” “Okay. Rafe said, ‘You fucking son-of-a-bitch! It took you long enough! What? Sixteen fucking years?’” It was nice to hear some laughter in the room for a change. “Well, we ended up having a great talk. I apologized. Rafe apologized. And—well—we’re going to meet up as soon as I get back to New York. He’s living in the city as well.” “Excellent. Would anyone else like to share?” We listened to a few other people. Most everyone had a good experience as I had had. There were some emotional experiences, some of which didn’t go as well as hoped for, but all-in-all—this was a beneficial afternoon for just about everyone. Lucas and I had a nice, quiet dinner by the pool. When we had finished, we headed for the beach and began walking around the lagoon. After about five minutes of walking, I spoke up. “So—Lucas—I told Rafe about you—and us. I hope you don’t mind.” “Of course I don’t mind. I would think I’ve been a part of this journey for you. I know you’ve been a huge part of mine. I also told Angela about you.” “How did that go?” “She immediately asked if you were my boyfriend now.” “Funny—Rafe asked the same thing.” “What did you tell him? If you don’t mind sharing.” “I told Rafe that you were probably one of the most important people in my life. I told him that I would forever love you for helping me see my truth—for helping me explore the things I’ve always wondered about. But I also told him that you weren’t my boyfriend.” “I said nearly the same to Angela. I told her that you will always have a special place in my heart for showing me the possibilities of loving again—and I do love you, Greyson—more than I ever thought I could love anyone.” “But?” “But, there were two things I realized and told Angela as they came to my mind. The first was the geography thing. We live half a world apart. We both have careers that are our dreams. If I have a boyfriend, I want to be with him all the time.” I chuckled and asked Lucas was the second thought was. “The second thought was that even though you showed me how I could open my heart to someone again, I wasn’t ready for a boyfriend yet. That’s not a reflection on you, by any means. It’s just—I don’t know—too soon for me to move on to another man.” “Thank you, Lucas. I’m happy—and relieved—that we are both on the same page. I will always love you—and I fully intend to have you in my life for a long, long time. But I have one question—request, really.” “What’s that, Grey?” “Will you please fuck me tonight? That’s the only thing I haven’t experienced yet.” Lucas pulled me into his arms and smiled. “Oh? The anchorman wants to feel a hard dick sliding into his virgin ass?” Wow! Lucas’ comments and the look in his eyes had my cock hard and throbbing in seconds! “I need you, Lucas. I need you now!” “Come and get it then!” Lucas pulled away, turned around, and started running back to the resort. By the time we made it into the lobby, we were both panting, sweating, and had to bend over with our hands on our knees. “Bastard! You’re gonna make me work for this, aren’t you?” Lucas grinned at me and took my hand. “My room. Shower first.” Lucas and I kissed all the way up the elevator. It was a different kiss than before. This one was all about physical contact. Pure. Unadulterated. Physical. Attraction. We got into the shower and cleaned each other thoroughly. We gave each other a blow job with the hot water cascading down our backs. I had already learned that a pre-sex blowjob helped the upcoming good stuff last longer. I was all for lasting longer for my first fuck! I have to say that Lucas was a fantastic teacher. He was gentle (when he needed to be) and forceful (when I begged him to be). Lucas took his time getting me ready. He waited until I literally begged him to put his cock inside me. Bastard! I think the best part of the entire night was watching Lucas fuck me. God! His muscles were ripped. His skin was shiny with sweat. The look on his face was one of disbelief and passion all rolled into one. When Lucas started to fill me with his hot nut, he let out a moaning howl that was a release of so much more than just his balls. After we cleaned each other’s bodies, Lucas pulled me into his arms. “That was incredible, Grey. I don’t know if you could tell, but when I was letting go of my cum, it was like I was letting go of all the bullshit that had prevented me from being intimate with another man.” “I could tell. It was an amazing thing to see. I’m glad I was the one to help you with that.” “Me too, Greyson. How was it for you?” “It was—fucking off-the-charts, Lucas. It hurt at first, but I knew it was going to get better soon enough. Once it started to feel good—it was—I don’t know—better than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.” “You’re too good for my ego!” “No! Seriously. It makes me regret all those lost years I could’ve been having awesome sex instead of just going through the motions with—what was her name? Oh—whoever that woman I married.” We had a wonderful time holding each other before we fell asleep. I guess not having the pressures of a relationship helped with that. But speaking of that woman I married, the next day was allotted to more time to contact the people on our list. I decided to try and call Elizabeth. The conversations I needed to have with Beverly and my mother were going to happen face-to-face. I was surprised Elizabeth answered my call as quickly as she did. Hell, I was surprised she picked it up at all. “Grey! Are you okay? Is it true?” “Wait! Whoa! What?” “You haven’t seen it?” “Seen what?” “The Weekly Buzz” “No. I’m at a secluded resort in Maui. I’m doing a conference thing.” “From the looks of things, that’s not all you’re doing.” “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” “I’m hanging up. I’ll take a picture and send it to you. I’ll call back in a couple of minutes.” I was confused as shit until my phone buzzed, and there it was. NNN NEWS STUD FINDS HIS BEACH BOY TOY Right there, on the cover was Lucas and me—kissing on the beach at the far end of the lagoon. That was four or five days ago. Fuck! My phone buzzed with Elizabeth’s call. “Grey? Are you okay? Is it true?” “Fuck! Fuck my life!”
  19. GOODNIGHT & GODSPEED CHAPTER 6 – Breakthrough GREYSON It was the first Saturday of our Epic Life experience. To be perfectly honest, that was some of the most intense five days I’ve ever experienced. But I know that both Lucas and I were ready to move on to the next steps of the program. The evening after Lucas’ momentous One-on-One experience, we didn’t talk a lot. We had a quick dinner at the poolside restaurant and decided to take a long walk on the beaches surrounding the lagoon. When we got to the point furthest from the resort, I got to help Lucas take another dip in that grieving pool we learned about earlier. This was a much less intense trip, but nonetheless therapeutic. We took our time walking back to the resort, with our arms around each other’s waist. Before we got back to the resort’s beach, I stopped and turned to face Lucas. “Thank you for trusting me to be with you as you work through this. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.” “Of course I trust you. You’ve been trusting me to show you new things on your own journey.” “I’m pretty sure I’d be having a completely different experience had I not met you first. Thank God I looked into those eyes of yours before anyone else had the chance.” “Who says you were the first?” “What?” “You weren’t the first to look. But you were the only one I couldn’t look away from.” I don’t know why. I took Lucas in my arms and pulled him in for a beautiful kiss. It was filled with more passion than I’ve ever experienced in my life. I could tell from Lucas’ reaction that he was feeling pretty much the same thing. “I want you, Grey. Will you take me? Tonight? I need you inside me.” “Oh, fuck! I’ve never—” “You’ve already had a week of firsts—and you’ve learned quite well. I have a feeling this will be unlike anything you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime.” “What about you? Are you sure you’re ready?” “Yeah. I know I couldn’t have wanted this until now. This is my next step in moving on. We’ll be helping each other with a lot of shit.” “My place? Yours?” “Do you have any lube or condoms?” “No—we can stop at the…” “My place. I have everything we need. Let’s go—now!” Lucas grabbed my hand and pulled me along as we ran back to the hotel. Breathlessly, we made it into the elevator and were nearly able to breathe normally as the doors slid open on Lucas’ floor. He grabbed my hand and pulled me with him to his suite. Once inside, Lucas quickly shut the door and pulled me into the bedroom. “Jesus, Grey—I’ve not wanted or needed something like this in years!” I think the thing that surprised me the most was how much I felt like a seventeen-year-old virgin all over again. Lucas was doing things to me that I never even dreamed could be done! Who knew feeling a tongue on your hole could feel so damned incredible? I nearly shot my load just from that! But when Lucas hovered over me, grabbed my cock, and guided it into his ass. Oh, wow! My first thought was that this is nothing like being inside a woman! Oh, HELL no! The way Lucas flexed his muscles as he moved up and down on my cock felt like a hundred fingers touching every hot spot on my body. As incredible as feeling my cock inside Lucas was, the best part was watching him. His sweat-glistened body looked even more amazing as he would work himself around me. Watching his head roll back with his blond hair flopping around was hot—but when accompanied with low, guttural moans of pleasure—that nearly sent me over the edge. What actually sent me over the edge—giving me the longest and hardest orgasm of my life—was when Lucas raised himself so that only the head of my cock was inside him. He leaned back with his weight on his arms and groaned, “Now—Grey—pound me! Pound me hard!” I started pistoning my hard cock in and out of Lucas so quickly that I was beginning to believe I was seventeen again! In a matter of minutes, we were both yelling, cursing, and moaning as I flooded Lucas with my load, and he simultaneously covered me with his own. Hours later—okay, I’m sure it was only five minutes—Lucas and I returned to earth. We were in each other’s arms. I gently pushed a lock of blond hair out of Lucas’ face and smiled, “What. The. Hell. Was. That?” “That was the hottest sex I’ve ever experienced in my life. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” “Pretty sure. But I do remember having sex with my ex-wife—but—but—Jesus! This was so much beyond anything we ever did.” “So, you liked it?” “Liked it? Are you kidding me? I can’t wait to do it again—and again! Only—next time, I want you inside of me. All I know is I want to feel the things you were feeling. It totally looked like it felt good for you.” “It was amazing. I haven’t wanted anyone inside me since—well, since Erik—and—I mean—you just took me places I had forgotten had existed. Actually—there were a few places I never knew existed.” “Can you take me there, Lucas? Can you make me feel those things, too?” “We will—I will—I promise. I just want to enjoy this time right now. Believe it or not, this is my favorite part of making love—holding, talking, cuddling, kissing—it’s the best right at this moment.” And that led to another first for me—we talked, cuddled, kissed, and held on to each other as we took in each other’s happiness. I could definitely see why this was Lucas’ favorite part of making love. Is that what we were doing? Were we making love? Or did we just power fuck each other into this blissful state? I mean, I have developed feelings for Lucas. Is this what love feels like? I don’t know—I’ve never had these feelings before. I can’t let it be love. No—not until I resolve this whole thing with Rafe. I know I won’t be able to let myself get into another relationship until that’s settled. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved if I had this undercurrent of—whatever it is—involving my best friend of my youth. I have to find him so I can apologize to him—hopefully, face-to-face. “Hello? Are you there, Grey?” “Oh! Yeah! I’m sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts.” “What were you thinking about?” “Regrets. I know Francesca says that we need to use the things we regret as tools to move on and create a new life for ourselves—blah, blah, blah. But damn—I so regret turning down Rafe seventeen years ago. I regret that I haven’t been having incredible sex all that time.” I giggled at my own stupid comment, hoping that Lucas would buy it—instead of what was truly on my mind. I have to say that while I enjoyed Lucas fucking me, I definitely preferred being the giver. I think that’s called being the “top,” but I’m wondering if you’re still the top when the hot-as-fuck man you’re fucking is on top of you? I’ll get all these terms figured out eventually. We showered before calling it a night, and somehow we found the energy for me to fuck Lucas in the shower. Yeah—I’m gay. I said it. I mean it. I love it! The next morning, the phone rang at 8:30. So much for sleeping in! We were told to meet everyone in the lobby at 11:00. We were going on a field trip. They were going to serve us lunch when we arrived at our destination. I asked Lucas if he knew what was up. He said they didn’t do anything like this in his introduction weekend, so it looks like we are both in for a surprise. The only other instructions they gave us was to wear something comfortable, along with closed-toe shoes. By the time 11:30 rolled around, we were near the top of a small mountain—about 2000 feet above sea level. We finally passed the sign that told us we were going to be spending the afternoon at Maui Zip Line and High Ropes Challenge Adventure. It sounds like an adventurous afternoon! As soon as we were out of the vans, we were led into the welcome center. They told us that after spending an afternoon with them, we would all be at least a little less fearful of the challenges we will be facing in the next week. The programs we would be doing will not only challenge us individually, but it will also help cement the bond between the entire group. They showed us a few slides of what we could expect, and then brought out some lunch—turkey sandwiches, chips, tea—not very adventurous. After lunch, the adventure began. The first thing on the agenda was walking across a 75-yard suspension bridge. It doesn’t sound very challenging, but when you realize that the bridge is 1500 feet above the ground and that it starts swaying like a motherfucker when you’re halfway across—it challenged the fuck out of me! A couple of people in our group panicked and froze up in the middle of the bridge. They needed some help and coaxing—but they finally made it across. I will say there was a very satisfying sense of accomplishment when your feet touched solid ground at the other end of the bridge. The other challenges on the course were exciting—and most definitely a challenge. I never felt in danger as we were all attached to a rope system that was controlled by one of the instructors down on the ground. Lucas was amazing on the 50-foot rock-climbing wall—I was pretty good. It took me a little while to navigate some parts of the wall, but I made it to the top without falling! The hardest/scariest/most terrifying part of the ropes course was called Leap of Faith. We had to climb up a 25-foot pole and stand on a two-foot square platform at the top. In front of us—about five feet out—was a trapeze. All we had to do was leap off the platform and grab the trapeze. Right!?! Lucas went up before I did and almost got the trapeze. He said he still had a blast jumping off the platform. I, on the other hand, was more than skeptical. Jewish boys are not necessarily known as the best thrill-seekers. As I was climbing the pole, all I could think was how grateful I was that I had a rope attached to my harness. I made it to the platform but had to take a few minutes before I could get the nerve to stand up on top of it. Now, from the ground below, the trapeze looks a reasonable distance away—easily catchable. But—when you’re standing on that platform, the fucking trapeze looks more to be fifty feet away instead of just five. I couldn’t move! I was frozen—just like those people on the suspension bridge. “Grey! Grey! Grey! Grey!” Whoa! They were chanting my name. Funny how that little bit of encouragement can help you muster up the courage to go for it. I took a deep breath, crouched down, and sprung forward with my arms stretched out in front of me. What the fuck? My entire body jerked to a halt. Did I—Holy shit! I caught the fucking trapeze! I hung on to it as the instructors lowered the trapeze to the ground. That was one of the most amazing feelings ever! Okay—one of the most amazing non-sexual feelings ever! The final—and best—part of the afternoon was the zip-line back to the bottom of the mountain. There were four sections of the zip-line—each one more thrilling than the one before. By the time we got back to the vans, I felt like I could pretty much accomplish anything that came up in my life—good job, Epic Life! Mission accomplished! That night, our small group—including Jack—all went out to an Italian restaurant. We wanted something non-Hawaiin for dinner, and Jack suggested the Pulehu Italian Grill. We all took cabs and met at the restaurant at 7:30. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed Carbonera as much as I did that night! The nine of us had a wonderful bonding time away from the stress of the conference room. The only hard part was keeping my hands away from my very sexy, very charming, very hot Swiss sex god. When we got back to the room, our hands—and mouths—were all over each other. We went straight to my bedroom and had all kinds of fun until three in the morning. We made sure to turn off our alarms so we could sleep in Sunday morning—an entire day off. We may have planned to spend the afternoon on the beach. We may have intended to hit the resort’s gym for some good workout time. None of that happened. I mean—what else would you do when every time you woke up and found yourself in bed with the hottest man in the entire South Pacific? Okay, we did manage to get out of bed a couple of times to let the room service people in—but as soon as the meal was finished—BAM! Dicks got hard and found their places in a mouth or tight ass! I was in fucking heaven! Needless to say, we were both pretty wiped out when we walked into the conference room Monday morning. The way Francesca smiled at Lucas and me, I could swear she just knew that we had been fucking like rabbits all weekend. We spent the first part of the morning in our small groups, talking about what we learned about ourselves from the One-on-Ones. That discussion turned into what we could do about it. Jack talked about how each of us probably had three or four people that we wanted to contact as a result of our One-on-One with Francesca. I had four people—I needed to find Rafe. I must get new management. I want to sit with Elizabeth and apologize. I get to have a serious talk with my mother. When Jack told us we needed to pick just one of those things, I couldn’t pick one. I worked it down to Rafe and my mother. Jack suggested I choose the one that might be the more difficult one to make happen—I decided to find Rafe. Next, we were given an hour alone—not even with our partner—to write a letter to the person we were going to reach out to. I went to my suite and—as suggested—got a pen and some paper. They didn’t want us to write on electronic devices so that we could avoid any unnecessary distractions. Dear Rafe, I don’t even know where to begin—especially since I have no idea where you are, how you are doing, or if you even want to hear from me. It’s hard to decide where to begin, so I guess I’ll start with this—I’m not Gary Mackolvich anymore—but you probably know that if you’ve seen me reading the news. But it’s so much more than just a different name. Last week, I became a completely new person—ironically, I became the person you thought I was all those years ago. You see, one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met kissed me. Just like I did all those years ago, I stopped him (yes, HIM) and told him I wasn’t gay. I went back to my suite and immediately saw your face—and the hurt I put on it when I rejected your kiss. A few hours later, I came to the understanding that maybe I wasn’t quite so sure of who or what I am. My marriage to the only woman I’ve ever been with came to an end. And the more I thought about it, the two most amazing kisses I’ve ever experienced came from men. Since that kiss last week, I have been on this fantastic ride of discovery. Your instincts were correct. I AM a gay man. I have never been so at peace with myself—except for one thing—I have this incredibly strong desire to find you. I need to look into your eyes and apologize for being such a jerk back then. I want to ask your forgiveness for cutting you out of my life when your best friend was probably the one thing you needed the most during that time. Rafe, we will never get back the past sixteen years—and for that, I feel terrible. But, if you’ll agree to it, I would like nothing more than to see if we can start again—see if we still have what it takes to recreate the most incredible friendship of my life. I miss you, Rafe. And—dammit—I still love you after all these years. Love, Greyson As I wrote my name on the letter, I had tears falling down my face. My heart was breaking the more I thought about Rafe. I was glad I had ten minutes before I had to be back downstairs. I went into the bathroom, splashed some cold water on my face, and threw some eyedrops into my red eyes. Much better. I went back to the table, folded the letter, stuffed it in my pocket, and headed back downstairs. Of course—this is how life seems to work at this conference—the elevator door slides open, and Lucas is there. From the redness in his eyes, I can tell he had a difficult time with his letter. “That was so incredibly difficult. But it looks like you were able to get through your process okay.” “Oh, hell no! I bawled my eyes out!” “It doesn’t look like it. Wha--?” “Cold water and Visine. Works every time you cry—or get stoned when you’re sixteen, and you don’t want your mom to know.” At least the two of us were laughing and smiling as we entered the room. It was pretty easy to see that the exercise we had just completed took a toll on everyone. The seats were arranged in one large circle this time. Looks like we’re going to be doing some kind of group thing next. Once we were all settled in, Francesca stepped into the middle of the circle and began: “Before we go to lunch, I want us to spend some time on the letters we just created. I imagine the majority of those letters might have been written to the person—or persons—that seems to be a part of the reason all of us came to Hawaii for these two weeks. I imagine that some of you may have written your letter to someone who is no longer living in this world. The point of the letter is two-fold—first, it helps put your narrative together for when the time comes for you to actually speak with the person to whom you wrote your letter. The second point is the help you give yourself. By reflecting on your One-on-One experience—and applying what you learned to your life—you should have a much clearer vision of how you can move forward with your life.” The next part of Francesca’s talk had her picking someone to read their letter. She called on Travis to read his letter. Travis and his boyfriend (I’m guessing here) are apparently together. Still, by viewing their body language and the way they look at each other when communicating—there are some significant problems with their relationship. With some gentle coaxing, Travis stood and read his letter. Francesca gave him the option of reading who the letter was written to, or just beginning with the main content. I think we were all moved to tears as Travis read his confessions for his shortcomings in their relationship. Without sounding accusatory, he let the recipient know what he needed—and wasn’t getting—back from his partner. But the end of the letter got to me. It was a profound and earnest declaration of his love. He wrote of his desire to reinvent their life together. Travis ended his letter with a beautiful thought—“I don’t need you in my life. I choose to spend my life with the one man who completes my heart.” Well, fuck! There wasn’t a dry eye in the house—mostly when Jordan, Travis’ “friend” ran across the circle, wrapped his arms around Travis, and kissed him. Both men were sobbing, and Francesca was super cool about giving them some space. After a few minutes, Francesca put her hand on Jordan’s shoulder as she asked him to read his letter. We were pretty blown away when Jordan’s words to Travis were nearly identical. There were more tears, hugs, and kisses when Francesca asked the two young men to take their seats. “I want to tell the group here that Travis and Jordan agreed to come here to see if they could fix their relationship. They are staying in separate parts of the resort—by our recommendation—not necessarily by their choice. I’ve been assured that they did not collaborate on their letters. “I can assure everyone here that Travis and Jordan have just discovered what their relationship has been missing. Can anyone tell me what that is?” The three answers that seemed to be dominant were communication, honesty, and openness. “Open and honest communication is the key to any successful relationship. Whether it be a relationship between you and your spouse, you and your business associate, you and your friends—with open and honest communication, those relationships will prosper and grow into something even more remarkable than either you can imagine. “Now—Lucas—would you care to read your letter?” “Oh, fuck me,” Lucas whispered as he stood to read. He took a couple of deep breaths and began reading” Dear Erik: I love you. I hate you. I resent you. I miss you. I love you. This is the roller coaster ride you put me on when you ended your life. Only, I now understand that is wasn’t you who put me on this ride—I got on by my own free will. I chose to get on this ride—and I’ll be damned if it’s been impossible to get off. I love you. I have loved you in some way since the very first day we met. When we were teenagers, you told me just how much you loved me and then showed me with a kiss that, to this very day, I can still feel on my lips as if it had just happened. While you were the most handsome and beautiful human being I have ever seen in my life, the part of you that made my love grow—exponentially every day—was your heart. I hate you. I hate that you never understood that the part of you I was the most in love with was not affected in any way by your accident. I hate that you never understood what I was saying to you whenever I told you how much in love with you I was. I resent you for deciding to get what you wanted in the most brutal and permanent way possible. You chose to end things in a way that would never give us a chance to work things out. I resent you for probably knowing that we WOULD work things out—and that scared you to the point that you felt there was only one thing to do. And now—I miss you, Erik. I miss you every morning I wake up, and you’re not there. I miss you every time I see a snow-covered mountain and don’t see you racing down the side. I miss you when I meet someone else—someone who MIGHT just be the one to help me move on—and no one can come close to giving me the love you have given me. I miss you, Erik. I miss US. The irony of all this is that I now understand. I understand WHY you did what you did. While everyone else sees what you did as greedy and self-centered, I now know in my heart—you ended your life for me. You wanted to set me free of the prison you imagined you had put me in. When I look at what happened through YOUR eyes, I can see the loving, selfless man you always have been. For that, I love you. I hate you. I resent you. I miss you. I love you, Lucas Francesca handed Lucas some tissues, and he dabbed his eyes. “That was a beautifully written letter, Lucas. I know you can’t say those words directly to Erik now, but did writing that letter help you see anything?” “Yes. I came here hoping that I would find a way to let go of Erik’s memory. But now—now I realize that I don’t have to let go of anything. I think I can let someone else find their way into my heart and be there right alongside Erik. I believe I can find room for anyone who wants to be in my heart.” “Excellent. Remember, the human heart is limited only by the restrictions we allow our brains to place on it. We find that so many times in our lives, our minds and our hearts work against each other in a near-constant battle. When we can take control of our thoughts—thus freeing our hearts—we will find that our truth prevails. And when we allow our truths to prevail, we will find ourselves living the best life we can live. Thank you, Lucas. You may return to your seat.” Francesca then told us we were free to go and have lunch. After lunch, we should try to find a way to contact the person we wrote our letters to—if that was possible. We were to return to the room at 4:00 to wrap up the day. Lucas and I got some sandwiches and went out to the beach. He decided he was going to reach out to Erik's sister. He hadn’t spoken with her since the funeral and wanted to clear the air with her. I decided that I was going to call Rafe’s mother and see if she could help me get in touch with Rafe. I skimmed through my phone and was thrilled to find that I still had the family’s phone number in my address book. I just hoped it was still a good number. After eating, we rode up to our suites—with a brief kiss before I stepped off the elevator. I went into my suite, took a deep breath, and dialed the number I had found. My heart was pounding as the phone began to ring. “Hello?” “Mrs. Miller?” “This is Mary Miller. May I ask who’s calling?” “It’s Greyson—I mean—It’s Gary Mackalvich. I don’t even know if—” “Oh! Dear God! Is it really you, Gary? Is something wrong?” “Yes. It’s really me. And no—nothing’s wrong. If anything, everything’s beginning to be right for a change.” “Okay. I—I can’t believe I’m actually talking to you! I see you one the news nearly every night, and—oh wait. Should I call you Gary or Greyson?” “Greyson is good. It took a while, but my mother has finally started to call me by my new name.” “Speaking of, how is your mother? I do miss her, you know.” “I’m sure you do. She’s doing well. She stays busy with her volunteer work. She still makes a fuss over me and the stupid things I still do.” “Well, that’s what mothers are supposed to do. Greyson—is there a reason you called? Not that I’m complaining! It’s so wonderful to hear your voice!” “Well, there is something I need. I need to find Rafe. I need to talk to him about what happened all those years ago. I need to clear the air with him and—hopefully—try to restart our friendship.” “Oh, Greyson! That’s wonderful! I still don’t know what happened back then, but I do know it broke Rafe’s heart. Sometimes I think he’s still aching over it. I know he misses you.” “That’s good to know—I guess.” “Look, as much as I want to, I don’t think I should give you Rafe’s cell number without his permission. But I do have your number on my caller ID, so would you mind if I give him this number and have him reach out to you if he wants to?” “Oh! Yes! Please give him my number. I have to ask that you not give it to anyone else. It’s my personal cell number, and the last thing I want is for the general public to get hold of it. I hope you understand.” “Of course I do. Oh, you dear boy! It is so good to hear from you again! Please have your mother call me. I would love to have a restart on our friendship as well.” “I’ll do that.” “Excellent! I’ll hang up now and call Rafe. He’s off Monday nights and should be home. When is a good time for him to call you back?” “Any time of the day—or night. This is more important than anything else going on my life.” “Thank you for calling, Gar—I mean, Greyson. This is so exciting. I don’t think you’ll be waiting too long to hear from Rafe.” “Thank you, Mrs. Miller. Thank you so much for your help!” “It’s my pleasure, dear boy. Bye Bye!” The call ended, and I stood on my balcony. It was so strange. In so many ways, I felt like I was that awkward seventeen-year-old kid again. Part of me was terrified of what might happen next. Another part of me was excited at the possibilities. Then—it was happening. My phone began buzzing. It was from a New York number, but not one I recognized. I took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hello? This is Greyson.” “You fucking son-of-a-bitch! It took you long enough! What? Sixteen fucking years?” “Rafe.” Breakthrough.
  20. FlyOnTheWall

    The Pool

    Hehe--this part of the next chapter is going to surprise the crap out of you!
  21. GOODNIGHT & GODSPEED CHAPTER 5 – The Pool LUCAS Before I stood, Grey nudged my shoulder and whispered, “You got this.” That made me feel better. I wasn’t looking forward to what might be in store when Francesca started her One-on-One with me. For the last three nights, Grey has been exploring his sexuality with me. Me? I’ve been exploring emotions and feelings that I had tucked away for years. Was I ready to express those feelings to the entire room? Who knows? But when it comes to Francesca’s One-on-Ones—it doesn’t matter if you’re ready or not. “Hello, Lucas. Whew! We made it! You are the last One-on-One for this round. Are you ready?” I smiled at Francesca and replied, “Does it matter?” She laughed, which helped me relax. She looked to the audience and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Lucas has been here before. He got a taste of the One-on-Ones when he did our introductory program several weeks ago.” She turned back to me and said to have a seat. “Lucas, I must start by saying that it’s been a joy watching you this week. You are the perfect example of why our introductory program can be so beneficial—not just to you, but to those you have become close to. How do you think you’ve been able to help your partner this week?” “I’ve been there to answer any questions. I would share some of my personal experiences and use them to help guide him along his path. But the funny thing I’ve been noticing I that the so-called advice I might give—or the experiences I might share—they are all things that I need to hear and experience for myself. I guess what I’m discovering is that this path we’re on—this experience we’re having—we’re in it together. What helps him helps me.” “Exactly. That’s why we do our One-on-Ones in front of everyone. Every person who comes up here has an experience that each and every one of us can learn from—can grow from. What touches us during these sessions may be quite subtle—or, it may be as profound as if it were part of your own One-on-One. The point is, we are all on this journey together. Whether it is conscious or subconsciously—we are all helping each other on this magnificent adventure—this life that we all are creating for ourselves.” “Yes, that’s the perfect description.” “Excellent. Now, don’t think you’re going to get by easily, Lucas. It was your fortune—or misfortune—to have me take you through your first One-on-One experience. Do you remember that?” “I will never forget it. It was so profound and life-changing.” “Yes, these sessions can most certainly set you on a journey like you never expect. Now, if I remember correctly, you were on a journey that was filled with roadblocks and dead ends. Am I getting this right?” “Yes.” No, I wasn’t going to say more than I needed to. I felt like Francesca was trying to take me back to that emotional first One-on-One. “Would you share with us what put you on that particular path?” “I’d—I’d rather not.” “I’d rather you would, Lucas. Please—you can start with the accident.” I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Why was Francesca doing this?? “I—I—really don’t want to go there.” “I think that more than anything, you need to go precisely to that incident in your life.” Silence. I just stared blankly out to the audience. “Lucas, I believe you’ve been telling yourself that you have moved on—when in reality, all you’ve done is cover up and ignored the incident. Not dealing with the painful experiences in our lives is not moving on—it’s running away. Does that make sense to you?” I slowly nodded my head, while still staring into nothing—as images of that horrific day started to flood my memory. “I can see that you’re beginning to think about that event in your life. Tell us what you are thinking about—I promise it’s the best way to start letting go of the pain—the pain we can all see, Lucas.” “He was—he was—Erik was a phenomenal skier. He could have easily been a part of the Swiss national team, but he didn’t want to have anything to do with the bullshit that comes with Olympic politics—especially on the Swiss Nordic Team. “The thing he loved most was teaching others how to ski. Everything from giving tips to the more advanced skiers—to the pure joy he found in teaching kids. He—he would have been such a great father. Why did I go there of all places? Now my heart was breaking—and the tears were already beginning. “Go on, Lucas,” Francesca softly said as she handed me a tissue. “It was Erik’s 18th birthday. We’d been together nearly two years by then, even though we had grown up together and were best of friends. I wanted to give him a birthday gift he would never forget. My father gave us four days off, and we went to Italy so we could ski at Val Gardena. It was one of the ski resorts he had dreamed of visiting. “The first two days were like living in a dream. We would ski all day long—and at night—well—it was beautiful. Those were the happiest two days of my life. “That third afternoon, we were on one of the most challenging slopes. I was skiing slightly ahead of Erik. About halfway down, I heard a helicopter—it was a rescue helicopter—and it was heading toward the area we had just been skiing. I started to panic. I could feel in the deepest part of my soul that the helicopter was for Erik. “I raced to the bottom of the slope and ran to find someone who could help me. When they finally told me that Erik was being flown to the hospital in Ortisei, I got myself there as quickly as I could. “When I got to the hospital, Erik was already in surgery. I had no idea what had happened. I didn’t want to call his parents until I had some information for them. I saw a man and woman with ski patrol jackets and asked them if they had just brought someone in from Val Gardena. It took some convincing that I was the only person Erik had with him and that we were boyfriends. “Even though she officially wasn’t supposed to say anything, I found out that Erik had apparently hit an icy patch on the slope. He fell and slid into a tree. The could tell from the tracks that he had tried to slow himself down before he slid into the trees. She said that probably saved his life. “Erik hated the life he was left with after the accident. He was paralyzed from the chest down. He could move his arms, but not well. But to me—none of that mattered. I was so happy that I still had Erik with me. He survived that horrible accident—and we were still together.” My tears were flowing by now—I paused and wiped them from my face. “About two months after the accident, we were back in our chalet in Spiez. I helped the nurse take care of Erik. I would bathe him, cook for him. I slept with him the first night, but he refused to let me after that. He said he hated sharing a bed with me and not being able to roll over and hold me—or worse, not being able to make love to me. The nurse even told him how he could do that, but he wanted nothing to do with it—or with me, it seemed. “It wasn’t long after that—when Erik started to tell me I needed to move on. He wanted me to be happy, and he just knew that wasn’t possible if I were stuck with him. I could tell he had given up on his life. Erik felt as if he had nothing left to live for. “For the next several weeks, things just became more strained with Erik and me. It was January 8th—that was the day we had our worst argument. Erik screamed at me to get out—that he needed some space. I went to my father’s house. I had to talk to Dad about the situation. “About two hours later, I got a call from Erik’s sister. Somehow—somewhere—Erik got a gun. He—he—shot himself in the head. She told me there was a letter for me. I—I couldn’t believe Erik could do something like that! I was in shock. Dad took me back to the chalet and sat with me while I read the letter.” “Do you remember what the letter said?” “Of course. The first thing I noticed was the tone. It was written by the old Erik. The Eric I fell in love with years earlier. I could hear the kind, loving voice I always heard before. It almost felt like he was standing behind me, his arms wrapped around me, and his mouth whispering into my ear…” “What was he saying to you, Lucas? What were the words you heard?” “He told me that the happiest he’d ever been was the time he and I were together—not just as lovers, but growing up together and sharing our lives. He apologized for making me sad, but he knew that I would be able to move past the grief and move on with my life the way it was supposed to be.” “It sounds like Erik’s actions—as horrific as they are—came from a place of pure love and care. It sounds like Erik may have given the ultimate sacrifice, so the boy he loved could live the life he had always wanted.” Damn her! She hit on the one thing I still can’t deal with—Erik killed himself for me. I’m the reason that beautiful boy ended his life. I was sobbing from deep within. “Now, you are grieving. Now, you are completely feeling the loss of someone you hold so very close to your heart. Now, you are allowing yourself to feel that tinge of guilt—that guilt brought on by thinking you are the reason Erik ended his life.” I don’t know how Francesca understood what I was saying through the sobs, “It hurts! It hurts so much!” “Of course it hurts. Grief hurts like a son of a bitch. And the longer we hold onto it, the more it hurts when we finally let it go. At the same time, grief is one of the powerful emotions we have. But for grief to do its job, we have to allow ourselves the freedom to experience it.” “But I literally grieve every single day. I’ve thought of Eric and what he did every day for the past ten years.” “I’m sure you have. While we all grieve in our own unique ways, there is one general rule that we all must understand when it comes to grief—we must completely go through it before we can begin to get past it.” Why can’t I stop crying? Francesca is on the floor with me. Her arms are around my shoulder as she speaks. “I want you to imagine a large swimming pool. It’s the first time you’ve ever stepped into anything like it. You might be a bit frightened. You might feel some apprehension. “You stick your toe in. It’s cold. It’s not comfortable. But on the other side of the pool, you can see something there. You may not understand what it is, but it’s bright and colorful. You know in your heart that whatever is on the other side of that pool is there for the taking. You also understand that the only way to reach the other side is to swim there. “You must swim through the uncomfortably cold water. You need to know that the pool is your grief. For ten years, you have moved into the shallow end. You’ve experienced the cold discomfort for ten years. But you’ve not let yourself into the deep end of your grief so you can get to the other side of the pool—until today.” I listen to Francesa as I keep sobbing. “You can now swim through that sea of guilt. You can let go of the idea that you caused Erik’s death as you glide through those murky waters. As you reach the other end of the pool, you can feel yourself being pulled up to the surface—pulled out of the depths of grief that have held you down for so long. “You can now climb out of the pool. You’ve moved through the deep end of the grief you’ve almost experienced for the last ten years. Now that you are on the other side of the pool, you can see the bright and beautiful life in front of you. You can see all of the dreams you have had for yourself right there for the taking. You can also see so many beautiful things that you’ve not even thought of to this point. “Your life is now in front of you, Lucas. Once you allow yourself to move through the deep and uncomfortable pool of grief, everything you’ve ever dreamed of—and more—is there for you to grab on to.” How does she do that? I feel lighter and better than I have felt in years. Francesca pulled me through the parts of my grief that I was not allowing myself to experience. “I still feel him. I can still feel Erik in my heart.” “Of course you do. There will always be a place in our hearts for the people we have loved throughout our lives. But the heart is an amazing thing. No matter how much we fill it with the people we love, there is always room for more. The human heart has infinite space for the people in our lives who manage to touch it. And when someone touches your heart, all you get to do is let them in. They’ll find their place.” “Can we get up now?” “Of course, Lucas.” We stood and sat back in our seats. Instead of handing me a tissue, Francesca gave me the entire box. “You’ve earned it, Lucas.” She smiled at me, and the whole room softly giggled. “May I ask a question?” “Of course you may. I’ve asked enough for now.” “What happens if I need to grieve some more? I mean—am I finished with the grieving part?” “No. You’re not finished. You’ll most likely need to do some more grieving. You have ten years’ worth to get through. But this afternoon, you got through the most challenging part of that pool. If you find yourself in the grief pool again, you know what to do—and how to swim your way through it. But more importantly, you now understand what’s waiting for you on the other side of the deep end—and it will get easier and more comfortable for you each time you move through it.” Francesca looked out to the audience. “You’ve just witnessed one of the most profound breakthroughs I’ve ever seen at Epic Life. Just remember—we all grieve. We all mourn. It may be the loss of a loved one. It could be the loss of a job. It could be the loss of a car—or another object in our life. I want you to remember that with any loss comes mourning and grief. More importantly, you must remember that to get past the grief you are feeling, you must move through the grief.” Francesca thanked me and told me I could go back to my seat. As soon as I sat, Grey wrapped me in his arms. It felt so nice to feel cared for like that. I rested my head on his shoulder and started to weep again. “You did it, Lucas.” I heard Grey whispering in my ear. “You were fucking amazing up there. We can now help each other find our way into the next part of our lives.” It was one of those moments I don’t think I’ll ever forget. As soon as Grey finished saying what he had to say, he leaned his head into mine and started to weep along with me.
  22. SEMI-autobiographical. A lot of the Epic Life stuff is based on my personal experience with a similar program I participated in. The erotic stuff? Sadly, it's all from my sad and perverted little mind. LOL
  23. FlyOnTheWall


    Yes, it all seems so easy to him right now--alone with Lucas--in Hawaii. Trust me, he has a lot of stuff to work through!
  24. GOODNIGHT & GODSPEED CHAPTER 3 – Shedding LUCAS Greyson Myers is probably the bravest man I’ve ever met. This man, whose entire life is based on an image that is created for him, stood in front of a room filled with people he didn’t know—and bared his soul. I know from experience that a One-on-One can be one of the most terrifying things a human can experience. Surprisingly, the terrifying part isn’t that you’re telling a room full of strangers a lot of personal shit you’d never tell anyone else—the terrifying part is the act of peeling away layers and layers of your soul. You find yourself exposing things to yourself that you haven’t thought of, or considered, throughout your life. I think I heard Grey say something about wanting to find his friend Rafe. I’ll let him know that he’ll have a chance to work on that next week. He needs to focus on himself for now. GREYSON Francesca had three more One-on-One sessions after me. I don’t remember much about the session right after mine—my brain was spinning as I thought about what I had just experienced. I was surprised at how emotional—gut-wrenching, even—the sessions were. Francesca was direct and to the point, as she tore down the walls that kept my fellow participants and me from finding our truth. I was also surprised at how much processing I was doing for the hour after I sat down. I made a few decisions as I was sitting there—decisions that I may or may not share with Lucas later on. Who am I kidding? Of course I’m going to share them with Lucas. The fourth One-on-One broke my heart—and pissed me off—all at the same time. His name was Christopher, and he literally stood in front of the room and told us that he hated himself. He said that he thought he had a wonderful life. He was married to a beautiful woman, and they had two remarkable children. Out of the blue, without a hint of any trouble, his wife left with the kids. She did it while he was on a work trip. The wife left him a rather long note, accusing him of mental abuse and causing psychological damage to his children. She said that he was incapable of love and that she would not allow his so-called dark personality to poison the minds of her children any longer. He was, of course, devastated. Several weeks after his wife left, he finally got his head together and hired someone to find her and his children. He discovered the real reason she left was a new relationship with a very wealthy man. When Christopher tried to take legal action to get his children back, the man’s high-priced legal team successfully took his wife’s false accusations to court. He lost all custody rights to his children. He slowly became the person his ex-wife had accused him of being. He lost everything except his job—and that was because he was self-employed. As Francesca peeled away his layers, he discovered that his ex-wife wasn’t entirely wrong about him. He found that he had no idea how to love someone else freely. He tended to place conditions on the emotions he allowed himself to share with others. It was apparent that even Francesca was having a difficult time with Christopher. By the time his One-on-One was wrapping up, Christopher was on the floor with his arms wrapped around his legs. He was sobbing when Francesca got on the floor with him. She put her hand on Christopher’s shoulder and told him that he was going to be just fine. She explained that everything he had just learned about himself was things that they were going to teach him how to fix and begin rebuilding his life. What struck me the most was the last thing she said to him. “Christopher, I want you to understand that one of the greatest gifts the Universe can give you is the opportunity to recreate yourself into the person you choose to be. Right now, you might feel that you’ve hit rock-bottom. Rock-bottom can be a beautiful place because as you pull yourself up, you get to choose who the real Christopher is—every step of the way. And the best part is that you have everyone in this room to support you and help you find your way—and yourself.” Wow. I didn’t feel so exposed after that! The last part of the afternoon was thirty minutes with our partner. We were supposed to discuss the One-on-One sessions we had just witnessed—or participated in—and find out how other people’s experiences can relate to our own. I told Lucas that I would prefer to talk to him about my One-on-One when we were alone tonight, and he thought that was a good idea. I also told him how the end of Christopher’s One-on-One hit close to home for me. When Lucas asked how that affected me, I told him that when it came down to it, I was going to be creating my public image the way I wanted it to be perceived—not the way Beverly wanted the world to see me—and not the way my mother wanted her friends to see me. Lucas smiled at me and said, “You are an amazing man, Greyson Myers. I’m so glad I get to spend these two weeks with you as you learn about who the real you is—or isn’t.” “I hope what we have going lasts a little longer than the two weeks here in Hawaii. What? Don’t tell me it’s going to be ‘bye-bye Greyson’ and off you go to the fucking Alps!” “Hell no, Grey. You’re kind of stuck with me. We’ll figure out the logistics when we need to, but I have no intention of leaving you behind when we’re finished here.” Time stood still then—Lucas and I found that special place in each other’s eyes. We just took in each other’s soul—until Francesca walked up and placed her hands on my shoulders. She was standing behind me and asked if I needed anything or had any questions about my One-on-One. “Well, Francesca—there is one thing. I know I need to find Rafe and fix things. Do you have any ideas on how I can do that?” “I do, Greyson. But I would like you to hold off on that for a few days. Once we finish with the One-on-Ones, we’ll spend time on ways to resolve our personal situations. Finding someone from your past is most assuredly a part of that process.” “Oh—okay—that’s actually good to know. And I really do want to thank you for all you did for me this afternoon. I’m beginning to see so many things much more clearly. I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough.” “Just learn to be your real—and best—self. That’s what this program is all about. Find the man you hid away so many years ago, and that’s all the thanks I could ever wish for.” I’ll be damned if I didn’t feel the tears coming again. “Jesus, Francesca! Do the tears ever stop?” “To be honest—not if you’re doing this right. You have a lot of pent-up emotions and feelings inside you. As you let go of them, tears usually come with the process. Think of the tears as a cleansing of the parts of your being that you are exposing. And just so you know, when you complete this program, you are going to be so much more in touch with your emotions that you will find yourself getting tearful at things you never even considered before. But when that happens, you’ll know in your heart that you’re on the correct path in your life.” “Okay. I guess I need to stock up on more tissue then!” That brought smiles to the three of us, and Francesca suggested that we go ahead and go to dinner. She said she had a feeling that Lucas and I had a lot to talk about tonight. When we left the room, Lucas turned to me and suggested that we do room service again. “Your suite or mine?” “Lucas, we are going to mine—it’s much nicer than yours.” “It’s not that much nicer—just a little, maybe. But—I think I’m going to my suite first and get a change of clothes—just in case—no pressure.” I smiled and told Lucas that I was hoping he would stay the night with me again. I told him that I would order dinner while he got his stuff from his suite. As I got off of the elevator, I smiled to myself when I heard Lucas tell me that he would be down soon—as the doors closed. I could hardly catch my breath as I made my way to my suite. I didn’t know what was going to happen tonight, but I had a feeling this might be a night I won’t soon forget. Is it possible to be equally excited and scared? As of now, I’m pretty sure it is. Holy shit! Lucas knocked on my door about forty-five minutes later. I opened it and was utterly stunned by what stood in front of me. Now—Lucas has always had a look about him that apparently took my breath away. But—wow—Lucas had a look in his eyes that was—I don’t know—smoldering? His luscious, full lips were barely turned upward into a smile that nearly left me breathless. He was wearing a skin-tight black v-neck tee and jeans that had apparently been spray-painted on. I was still in my clothes from the day at Epic Life and was feeling considerably underdressed. “Wow. Lucas—you look—whoa. I need to shower and clean up. I already ordered room service, so if they show up while I’m gone, can you let them into the suite?” “Of course, Grey. Don’t worry about a thing.” I walked back into the bedroom and shook my head. There are a million-and-one things to worry about—like, will my cock ever go down after seeing how stunning Lucas looked when I opened the door? Do I want Lucas to remember my confession that I wanted to do things with Rafe? Will he want me to want to do something with him? Should I stroke off a load in the shower? Well, after throwing one of the most substantial loads I’ve ever experienced down the shower drain, I can say the answer to all my worries is yes—a profound yes. As I was in the middle of that orgasm, I knew I wanted to explore my sexuality with Lucas. Only one problem—how the fuck does a straight—okay, straightish—man initiate something like that? Oh well—I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, right? I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom. I finished shaving and tried to figure out what Lucas saw in me. I mean, I know I’m in good shape with all the time I spend with my trainer. There’s a good amount of definition, but fuck me! Lucas looks like his body has been chiseled in marble by fucking Michaelangelo! Wow—I guess that was a rather gay thing to think! And there goes my cock again! For some reason, I began thinking about how I wanted to run my fingers over each cut of his abs. I thought about kissing Lucas’ pecs and nibbling on his nipples. Well fuck! I had to stroke off yet another load into the toilet. Once I cleaned up, I went into my bedroom. I didn’t have anything to wear that anywhere close to the sex appeal of Lucas’ outfit. Oh well, I put on a pair of jeans (commando) and a loose-fitting white tank top—no shoes. I decided to go for a sexy casual look and hope for the best! God help me! Going commando meant my slightly aroused cock was visible, snaking down the left side of my jeans. Of course, when I walked out of the bedroom, I noticed Lucas staring right at my crotch. At least he smiled as he told me I looked great! Why the fuck did I start blushing like a teenager on his first date? Room service had arrived while I was cleaning up. Lucas set everything out on the table, and we sat, enjoying a wonderful dinner of stuffed pork tenderloin with an apple-cranberry sauce, asparagus, smashed potatoes, and a delicious pinot noir. While we were eating, Lucas asked me about my One-on-One experience. “So—what do you feel about your afternoon with Francesca?” “It’s weird. I was expecting Francesca to be brutal. But it was more than that—she was brutally thorough. I felt like an onion. She just kept peeling away layer after layer. But all in all, it was an eye-opening experience. I can see things much more clearly than before.” “No regrets?” I finished the last of my wine and answered, “None whatsoever. Actually, if anything—I have a much clearer notion of what I need to do next.” “Care to share?” “Be careful what you ask for, Lucas.” I smiled and—wait a minute! Did I fucking wink at Lucas? I guess I did because he took in a sharp breath and smiled back. “Do you remember what I ended up saying about what I wanted with Rafe?” “That you wanted to kiss him?” “Yes.” “That you wanted to do things with him?” “Yes.” “And?” “Will you teach me, Lucas? Will you show me what I apparently want—and need?” Lucas’ eyes opened wide, and he exhaled at breathy “fuuuuuck!” as he stood up. He reached his hand to me, and I took it. We stood, facing each other and looking into each other’s eyes—something we already have mastered. Only this time, I was finding it difficult to breathe. Lucas cupped my face in the palm of his hand. “I need you to know something. I’m probably just as nervous as you, Grey. I haven’t had any type of meaningful, intimate contact with anyone since Erik died. I know you have that feeling in your stomach that’s making you crazy. I have it, too. I just want you to know that no matter what happens here, I will be forever grateful to Greyson Myers for opening my heart once again.” Whoa! I couldn’t think of anything to say to that! So—I did the only thing that seemed natural at the moment. I closed the space between us and kissed Lucas. Nothing more than pressing my lips to his and savoring the near-electric sensation that came from the connection. “Is this what you want, Grey? I don’t want you to feel any pressure.” Damn. I still couldn’t speak! I slowly nodded my head to let him know I was doing exactly what I wanted—no—needed. He smiled that hot-as-fuck smile and cupped my head in his strong hands. He pulled my face to him and kissed me with an intensity I have never experienced in my life. I couldn’t believe how right it felt. I opened my mouth, pushing my tongue against Lucas’ lower lip. He opened and let me into his mouth. Once our tongues began their erotic dance, I let go of a moan that must have originated from my toes. Lucas broke the kiss and peeled off his t-shirt. I did the same with my tank top, and like magnets, our bodies pressed together as we began kissing once again. I couldn’t stop moaning—and my cock couldn’t stop responding. I was in pain. I broke the kiss, panting so hard it was difficult to talk. But managed to huff, “Lucas, will you take me to bed and show me what I’ve been missing all these years?” “Of course, Grey. Anything you want.” Okay—he was panting as hard as I was. Lucas took my hand and led me into the bedroom. We stood at the side of the bed when Lucas wrapped his arms around me. “Are you sure, Grey? Is this what you want?” “Today, I realized I’d wanted this for sixteen years. I’m so happy that I get to find it with you, Lucas.” I kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “Be patient with me, okay? I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.” “I may not be 100% correct, but I would say do what you feel like doing, and know that you have nothing to be afraid of.” I kissed Lucas once again, and then reached for the waist of my pants. As I started pulling them down, Lucas stopped me. “May I? Would you be okay if I did that for you?” I let my hands drop to my side and looked into Lucas’ eyes. He began kissing the side of my neck as I felt him undo the button of my jeans. My breathing froze as I noticed Lucas kneeling as he lowered the zipper. Once he was on his knees, I felt Lucas’ hands reach behind and slip them over my ass. Jesus! Was Lucas the first person to touch my ass? You’d think so the way my skin suddenly felt two sizes too small. I felt Lucas’ hands moving down my legs as my jeans were lowered. At first, I was a bit embarrassed, having gone commando, but those feelings were gone as my hard cock was freed. It literally slapped Lucas in the face. Before I could apologize, Lucas gasped and said that I had the most beautiful cock he had ever seen. Lucas helped me out of my jeans and then wrapped a hand around the base of my cock. “May I?” “Please, Lucas. Please!” The deepest moan I’ve ever made met with the warmth of Lucas’ mouth as it surrounded my cock. I don’t know how I was able to stay standing as my legs began to tremble. Lucas pulled his mouth away and looked up at me with those eyes—those fucking beautiful eyes. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” “Jesus, Lucas. I’ve never been more okay in my life. Please don’t stop!” Lucas smiled and didn’t stop looking at me as he opened his mouth and took my entire eight inches into his throat. I gasped and placed my hands on Lucas’ head, wrapping his blond curls in my fingers. When he moaned with my cock deep in his throat, I thought I was going to blast right then! “Lucas! I’m—I’m not going to last long!” Did you know you can smile with a cock in your mouth? Lucas can! The next thing I knew, Lucas placed a hand on my hip and guided me in and out of his mouth. “Fuuuuuuck! So good, so fucking good!” I was fucking Lucas’ mouth, and before I was ready for it to end, I felt that feeling. I was going to cum in mere seconds. I warned Lucas that I was about to blow, but he didn’t pull away. No—he only increased the pressure on my cock. I yelled something out at the top of my lungs—I couldn’t tell you what it was—but my entire body was on fire as I experienced the most intense orgasm of my life. I remember pulling my cock falling out of Lucas’ mouth once my heart started to beat again. I’m glad the bed was behind me because I found myself in a freefall backward. My eyes were closed, my breathing was still hard, and I felt the mattress move as Lucas crawled onto the bed next to me. “How was that?” I couldn’t even turn my head to face Lucas, but I managed to mumble, “Fuuuuck! What just happened? I—I—never felt anything like that in my life.” “So, you’re okay?” “So much more than okay.” I managed to turn my head and looked at Lucas. He had the most beautiful smile on his face. I think I had one, too. I wrapped my arms and pulled Lucas to me for a kiss. I could taste a hint of my cum on his tongue—and that only made the kiss more intense. I moved my hands down to find Lucas’ skin-tight jeans where I didn’t want them—on his body! “Someone is a bit overdressed for this bed, wouldn’t you say?” “I knew I shouldn’t have worn skinny jeans tonight!” “That’s exactly what you should have worn. You look so fucking hot tonight.” I kissed Lucas lightly and asked if he needed help getting out of those jeans. “That’s okay. I got it.” I probably shouldn’t have laughed as I watched Lucas struggle to take off his jeans. By the time he got out of them, he was laughing his ass off with me. LUCAS I shouldn’t have worn those damned jeans! Sure, they make my ass look hot. Yes, they show off my cock when it starts to fill out. But they sure can ruin the mood when you’re trying to get naked so you can have fun with one of the hottest men you’ve ever met! I’ve never given anyone his first blowjob before. Surely, Greyson has had them—I mean, he was married. But I’m fairly confident that he has never had a mind-blowing blowjob before. Now, I’ve given plenty of blowjobs to many men over the years, and I’m confident that I know my way around a cock. But I’ve never had a man react to a blowjob the way Greyson Myers did! The sounds he made—the moans and gasps—I’ve never heard anything that intense from anyone. It was as if I could feel his entire body vibrate through his cock. Oh, and that cock! From the way it would go deep into my throat, I figure him to be at least twenty centimeters—that would be at least eight inches to you Americans out there. It was nice and thick, but not so thick that it was difficult to take down my throat. It’s cut, too—I don’t see that very often in Europe. I nearly shot my load when he started to fuck my face. Now, I like a good face-fucking, but most guys just pound away to get off as fast as possible. With Grey, however, it was as if he was savoring every sensation surrounding his gorgeous cock. He took his time, and I was able to do some oral magic as he moved in and out of my mouth. When he approached his orgasm, Grey tried to pull out of my mouth. I have a feeling his wife never let him shoot in her mouth. Not me! When he shouted that he was close, I grabbed his flexing ass and made sure I didn’t miss one drop of his nut. Holy shit! Grey yelled something at the top of his lungs when he started shooting. Many hotel guests around his suite—on multiple floors—now know that Greyson Myers just had what may very well be the best orgasm of his life! I finally made it back into the bed and found myself lying face-to-face with Grey. We wrapped our arms around each other and kissed—deeply and sensuously. Our bodies—and cocks—pressed against each other. “I can’t believe I’m hard again. It’s like I get to be a seventeen-year-old virgin again.” “I’m not complaining. So it was good for you?” “Jesus, Lucas—I have never had a blowjob or an orgasm like that in my life. I mean—I would occasionally get one from Elizabeth. But she would never swallow my cum and could hardly get a third of my cock in her mouth. I never complained because I didn’t know it could be better than that. I feel like I’ve been robbed all those years.” At least he giggled when he said she sucked—and her blowjobs were terrible, too. We kissed again. Only this time, we began rubbing our cocks against each other. I started breathing heavier and told Grey if we kept that up, I was going to shoot my load between us. I was surprised when Grey pulled away and told me to lie back. He kissed me lightly and began exploring my body with his fingertips (they tingled) and his mouth (his lips were like electricity). When he kissed and licked my nipples, I thought I was going to levitate off the bed. He explored every ridge and crevice of my abs with his fingers and tongue. When Grey found a pool of my precum sitting just above my navel, he scooped some up with a finger, smelled it, then tasted it. “That actually tastes pretty good. Hmmm.” Grey had said he felt like a seventeen-year-old virgin, and I wasn’t about to pressure him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. But I have to say I was more than a little surprised when he slid down the bed and wrapped a hand around my cock. I’m not nearly the size of Greyson Myers, but I do have a very respectable fifteen centimeters (six inches) or so. I don’t know why I was feeling inadequate as I watched Grey furrow his brow and tilt his head as he looked at my cock. Then it all made sense. “You’re not circumcised. What do I do with the extra skin?” Whew! I half-giggled when I said, “Well, I would normally tell someone to do what they normally do with any cock—but that’s not very good advice for you, now is it?” Grey actually blushed and smiled at me—waiting for instructions. All you have to do is pull the skin back—slowly at first, since I have an ultra-sensitive head. He pulled the foreskin away from the head of my cock, and Grey’s eyes widened. “Jesus, Lucas! You’re a precum factory! May I?” “Whatever you’re comfortable doing, Gre—” I didn’t even get his name out of my mouth before I gasped. Grey’s tongue swirled around the top of my cock—lapping up the precum as fast as it leaked out. When I felt the glorious warmth of Grey’s mouth surround my cock, my brain went out of control. “Scheisse! Scheisse! Oh! Oh! Verdammt! Scheisse!” Grey pulled off and smiled as he looked at me. “Are you seriously going to swear in German? That doesn’t encourage me at all!” Of course, I giggled and smiled back. “Grey—have you been lying to me? Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” “I’m pretty sure I would have remembered having a dick in my mouth—which, by the way, is pretty much rocking my world right now.” “Wow. You’re amazing, Grey!” “Oh, and just to save time—I fully intend to swallow every drop of your load. I will never give you an Elizabeth Cross blowjob!” Greyson Myers definitely did not give me an Elizabeth Cross blowjob. As he explored and learned the many different things he could do with his mouth, I received a magnificent blowjob from this amazing man. He took me places I hadn’t been in years. I was writhing and whimpering beneath him. For the rest of my life, I will never forget the look on Grey’s face when I fired shot after shot of my hot cum into his mouth. I have to hand it to him, though. Grey swallowed all but the few drops that leaked out of the corner of his mouth. Grey let my cock slip out of his mouth. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand and smiled, “Was it okay?” “Oh my God! Grey—you had me feeling things I hadn’t felt in years. That was easily the most amazing oral sex I’ve ever had. How did you do that?” “I had the best teacher. I just kept trying to remember what you had done with me and did my best to do it for you.” “Well, well, well! You just earned an A+, extra credit, and the title of teacher’s pet!” We giggled, kissed, and finally made our way to the bathroom to pee and brush our teeth. We crawled back into the bed and fell back asleep in each other’s arms. GREYSON Well, it’s official—I like dick. Well, to be more precise, I like Lucas’ dick. And—if I’m going to be honest with myself—I probably like his dick because I like him so much. We spent the next three days listening to One-on-One sessions from others in the group. Our walls were coming down more and more each day. We were learning so much from everyone in the group. Finally—Friday morning—“Lucas Bachman—are you ready? Why don’t you come on up for your One-on-One?”
  25. Some of you must have remarkably powerful psychic abilities! A story idea won't get out of my head... and it's all about Daniel. I'll get it figured out soon and you should see it started once i finish my current story.
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..