Poor Man's Son - 6. Chapter 6: April Fool's Day

July 10, 2000

“That seemed to go well,” Stef said as we took our seats in the plane.

“It seemed to,” Brad agreed.

“Whatever,” I said. “You were rock stars.” The plane lifted off gently from the airport and began to climb quickly toward cruising altitude. They smiled at me to thank me for my compliment, but I could tell they needed more. I made them wait. I was about to go on, to tell them about the meeting, when the plane jolted. I figured that was normal until I looked at Stef’s face. For the first time I could remember, he seemed nervous.

“What was that?” Brad asked.

“I do not know,” Stef said. “Perhaps there is turbulence.” The plane lurched again, and began to descend.

The cockpit door opened and the co-pilot shouted over his shoulder. “We’ve lost one of the engines. We’re trying to land.”

Now we’d forgotten all about the talk in St. Louis, or the upcoming meeting in Dallas. Now we were all focused on this remarkable plane that had suddenly become our death trap. We stared at the cockpit, watching the pilots try frantically to control it, but something else must have gone wrong, because the plane gave another violent lurch, and this time, it descended much more rapidly.

“I don’t suppose we have parachutes?” Brad asked calmly.

“I do not think so,” Stef said. I looked out the window and saw the ground coming at us quickly, charging up to meet us.

“We’re not going to make it out of this one,” I said.

“It does not look that way,” Stef said. “I am sorry. I have lived a long and fruitful life. Yours is just beginning.”

“I’ve lived it pretty fully, especially the last few days,” I joked, even as I spiraled to my death.

We said nothing for the next minute; we just held hands. Then, without warning, the jet hit the ground and I saw a fireball, then nothing.

July 10, 2000

I knocked softly on Cody’s door, with John in tow. “Come in,” he shouted.

I walked in with John walking behind me shyly. Cody was laying on his bed wearing just boxers, looking sexy as hell. “Well what can I do for you two?” he asked with that leer he always had when he was being playful.

“We, uh, we want to, uh, fuck, but we don’t know how to do it,” I told him nervously.

“And you want me to tell you how?” he asked, grinning.

“No, we want you to show us how,” I said. We’d practiced this, how we’d do it, so John went up and laid down on one side while I laid down on the other. I ran my hand across his chest and down his abdomen, heading lower, while John started kissing his neck. My hand moved under the elastic in his boxers and grabbed his hard dick, stroking it gently. “Fuck me,” I said.

He growled and rolled me over onto my stomach and tore my Quicksilver shorts off. “Eat his ass,” Cody ordered John. “Get him ready.”

I felt John’s mouth on me, eagerly working my willing hole, and then he was gone, pulled off by Cody. “It works best if I just fuck you. It’s gonna hurt at first, but then it will feel good.”

He lined his dick up with my ass, then drove in, and I felt like I should scream out in pain, but there wasn’t any, all there was was bliss, sheer bliss at having this stud’s cock slamming in and out of me.

He pulled out and I missed him. “You do it,” he ordered John. Now I felt a different dick, John’s, as it drove in to replace Cody’s. He slapped John’s ass to urge him on. On and on he went, amazing for a 13 year old, until he tensed up and blasted his load inside me. I figured that would be it, that it would be over, but I was wrong. As soon as John pulled out, Cody flipped me onto my back and drove back into me, while John leaned down and started sucking my dick. I felt Cody stiffen, every muscle in his body tensed up, as he blew inside of me, and that sent me over the edge. I filled John’s greedy mouth with my load.

We lay there, sated, until an urgent knock at the door ushered in a very frantic Robbie. He ignored the fact that I was laying there with cum all over my body and almost pouring out of my ass.

“There was a plane crash. Stef, Gathan, and Brad were all killed!” he said, then started sobbing uncontrollably.

April 1, 2011

“Arbour, what exactly are you doing?” JP asked, staring at his creator and author.

“I’m a God. I can do what I want,” I replied.

“You’re fucking with the wrong guy,” he said. “You’ve been writing Brad’s character too long. He’s a pussy compared to me.”

“I can erase you with a stroke of the pen,” I said arrogantly. “Wanna see Escorial burn up in flames?”

“Your readers would lynch you.”

“Well, that could happen,” I agreed nervously, remembering what happened when I killed Jeff Hayes off.

“You want me to go get Tonto?” he asked menacingly.

“No, no, I got it,” I replied hastily. “I’ll put everything back the way it’s supposed to be!”

“Good,” he said, with that calm, self-satisfied look of his. “So what’s this all about?”

“It’s April Fool’s day,” I reminded him.

“Very funny,” he said coldly, in that way that was so typical of him.

“I thought so,” I replied.