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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Black Widow - 79. Epilogue - Chapter 4

October 10, 2003

Bristol, CT

 

JJ

“I’ll pick you up on Sunday then?” the driver asked. I looked skeptically at the dwelling that corresponded to the address Carullo had given me. There was a long hideous building that presumably contained individual townhouses, and it was connected at a 45-degree angle to a similar building, forming what was a courtyard of sorts. Presumably parking was in the back. The first floor was brick, while the upper level was covered by a hip roof, and there were dormer windows sticking out like huge bugeyes. The whole thing screamed bad 1970’s architecture. There were people hanging out in the courtyard, drinking beers and acting rowdy. A small group of them were throwing the football around. When the Maybach limo had pulled up, they’d all stopped and stared; I couldn’t tell if they were curious or planning to mug me. I wondered if I’d make it to Carullo’s door without getting assaulted.

“I’ll call you if I need you sooner,” I said, “but wait so I’m sure this is the right address.” I rummaged around in my rolling cocoon, putting my things in my satchel bag, when the limo door opened abruptly. I briefly looked up to see the driver still in his seat and wondered if I was about to be gang raped.

“Jay!” Carullo said enthusiastically. He all but dragged me out of the car and hugged me, lifting me up in the air and spinning me around. He was wearing a hoodie and jeans, and must have been one of the guys playing football.

“Dude, be careful,” I said nervously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”

“No, it’s not that,” I said, trying not to cry. “I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, confused.

“Look at me!” I said, although it was all but a sob. “I’m almost obese.”

“What a bunch of shit,” he said disdainfully. “You look great!”

“You must be blind,” I muttered, then resolved not to be a buzz kill.

“Come on over and meet my friends,” he said. Great. I looked like a cow and I had to meet new people. He led me over to the rowdy group. I knew that I wasn’t in danger with Carullo there, but I was nervous because I wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with these people. I mean, we probably had nothing in common.

“Will you need me anymore?” the driver asked, anxious to leave.

“Hey, can you take us to get some more beer?” Carullo asked me.

“Sure, we can do that,” I said, glaring at the driver, daring him to give me a dirty look. “We’ll be right back,” I told him.

“Hey!” one of the guys said. “Nice ride!”

“Thanks,” I said a bit shyly.

“Hey guys, this is one of my best friends, Jeremy Schluter, but you should call him Jay,” Carullo said exuberantly. I wasn’t sure that I liked being called Jay be people other than him, but I decided not to be bitchy about it. There were six guys there, and four women. I forgot their names as soon as I heard them. “The driver’s going to take us to get beer,” Carullo announced.

They let out a collective whoop. “I’ve got an idea,” I said, which was usually the beginning of a really bad course of action, at least for me. “Why don’t you let a couple of these guys go get the beer while I put my shit inside?”

“Dude, ride in a Maybach?” the first guy said. “I’d buy the beer just for that.”

“Nope, I’m buying,” I said, and handed him a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Just tell the driver where you want to go.”

“You are my new best friend!” the guy said and motioned to one of his buddies. They headed to the Maybach while I phoned the driver to tell him what to do. He almost had the nerve to complain, but shut up when I told him he could leave after he dropped them back off.

“Come on,” Carullo said, and led me into his ‘unit’ of this condo complex. I walked in and frowned. “It’s not the nicest, but it’s home.” He said that nervously, but I recognized that I was on the edge of being rude.

“I’m just looking at it, seeing all the potential,” I said.

“You are not going to decorate my condo,” he said assertively.

“I most certainly am,” I said even more firmly. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll even let you have some input.”

He grimaced and caved to the inevitable. “Thanks.”

“Smart boy,” I said, smiling at him.

“So what’s this shit about you being fat?” he demanded, even as his eyes scanned my body. I was embarrassed and humiliated to have him focus so much on my pot belly.

“I was taking those pills, to help me with my moods, and they made me gain weight,” I told him. “I was hardly eating anything, and I was going to the gym every other day, and I kept packing on the pounds, until now I look like this!”

“How much weight have you gained?” he asked.

“Five pounds,” I said, and felt a tear fall out of my eye. He shook his head at me in a patronizing way, which was just infuriating.

“You know, those runway model types you hang around with may not appreciate that extra five pounds, but in the real world, it makes you look better.”

“Right,” I said skeptically. He was so full of shit.

“That’s why you didn’t want to come up and see me,” he said, acting like a detective who had just found out where Jimmy Hoffa was buried.

“I look like a fat pig, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to, uh, be with me,” I said nervously. This whole conversation was just agonizing.

“For a smart guy, sometimes you can be a complete fucking idiot,” he said, and not all that nicely. “Even if you’d gained twenty pounds, I’d still want to be with you. It’s not about how you look, it’s you that I find attractive.”

“I’m so bitchy and moody, I figured that a slim body, a pretty face, and a lot of money was about all I had to offer,” I said, descending into a pity party. This whole situation had moved from awesome to unbearable, and my flight instincts kicked in. “I should go.”

“You’re only going one place,” he said to me with a growl, then he picked me up, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me upstairs to his bedroom. I hoped he didn’t get a hernia from all this exertion. We walked into the room and he lowered me down and kissed me, and that one kiss just blew all my problems to the back of my mind.

We tore off our clothes so quickly we could have been models changing in the middle of a show, until we were standing in front of each other, naked. “You stayed in shape,” I said with a smile, ogling his huge, muscular body.

He picked me up like a caveman and tossed me onto his bed. I tried to ignore how the 200 thread count sheets scratched my back. “This extra weight just put a soft layer over your hard muscles,” he cooed in my ear. “It is so fucking hot!” Then his hands were all over my body, then his mouth, and then he was in me, taking me on one amazing ride. When we were done, I lay there panting, grinning from ear to ear.

“That alone was worth the drive,” I said with a smile.

“I haven’t been with anyone since I left New York,” he said, which stunned me. “I’ve got a lot of energy to work off this weekend.”

“Awesome,” I said, and felt my whole body tingle in anticipation.

“But right now, we need to go out and party with my friends for a while,” he said. “I hope you like them.”

“I’m good with that,” I said. “They seem nice.” I steeled myself to go deal with these people who probably trashed the interior of my Maybach, pondering that either one of my brothers would be so much better in this situation than I was.

October 10, 2003

Escorial

Palo Alto, CA

 

Will

“Made it,” I said to him, getting a laugh in return.

“Good thing,” he said, looking down at his jeans, which were already starting to look like he peed his pants. He must be a volume shooter. I laughed to myself, thinking that I’d already made this guy have an orgasm and I hadn’t even gotten his clothes off yet. His eyes followed mine down to his groin. “Guess I need to deal with this.”

“That’s easy,” I said. “Follow me.”

I led him into my bathroom, pausing to adjust the lights and the aromatherapy controls before turning on the shower. “Nice bathroom!”

“It’s awesome,” I agreed, then continued more authoritatively. “Now strip.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said, in probably the same way he answered a superior naval officer. Just one more thing about this guy that was too fucking cute. I watched him take off his clothes while I stared at him, while he did the same thing as I took mine off. “Gross,” he said, noting the spooge smeared on his underwear and jeans.

“Not at all,” I said, taking his underwear, and licking a blop of cum from them. His eyes shot open while his dick started to rise, making me laugh. I took his belt out of his jeans, along with his wallet and other shit, and set it on the counter, then led him into the shower.

“What are you doing?” he asked, since I’d carried his pants in with us. I rinsed the cum off carefully, then wrung them out to dry, all while he was luxuriating in the multiple streams of water that were blasting him.

“This way, I can give them to the maid and tell her you fell in the pool,” I said.

“What about my underwear?”

“I’m keeping those,” I said in a sexy way, as I moved up behind him and nuzzled his neck. I got some soap on my dick and used that for lubrication while I thrust back and forth against his taint, then reached around and grabbed his rock-hard cock. He was a pretty big boy. He wasn’t as big as me, but then again, I was a freak of nature, but his dick was a lot like mine, only smaller. I stroked him slowly, but it wasn’t slow enough, as I felt him stiffen up before I could stop. He came again, blasting all over the shower wall. I nursed his orgasm out of him, then pulled away from him and jacked myself off, shooting my load against the same wall.

“Dude, you could be a horse,” he said.

“You said you liked to ride,” I joked, and saw him get a little excited and a lot nervous. I was getting the feeling that he didn’t really have much experience with other guys, which was strange to me since he was so good looking. I grabbed a towel and dried him off, checking out every part of his body. He had a big frame, and tacked on to that, he had good muscle tone. I cringed briefly when I realized his body probably looked a lot like Zach’s would look if he weren’t freakishly huge from working out for football. His dark blond hair was even darker around his pubes, as if to accentuate his awesome organ.

“This is a full-service spa,” he joked. I handed him a fresh towel to wrap around his waist then led him into my room. “How am I going to get back to my room?”

“You’re not,” I said. “At least not until morning.”

He grinned at me and hopped into my bed. “Cool.”

He’d been rigid, shy, and formal at dinner, but now alone in the room, he was happy and playful. We lay side by side, with him on his back looking at the ceiling, and me on my side looking at him. “Have you done much with other guys?” I asked.

“I got tested when I went to the academy, and I haven’t had sex with anyone since,” he said defensively, totally missing the point of my question. Still, that was good information to have.

“I’ve been safe every time since I was last tested,” I said, giving him similar stats on me, “but that’s not what I meant.”

“Mostly blow jobs, and I fucked a guy a couple of times,” he said, and blushed a little bit.

“Did you like it?” I asked.

He looked at me and grinned. “Yeah I liked it.” I thought that was pretty funny.

“But you’ve never been fucked?” I asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d like to try it sometime though.”

“Cool,” I said, and sat up. “Roll over.” He looked at me almost terrified, until he saw me grinning at him.

“Asshole,” he said, and I collapsed back onto the bed laughing. “You’re probably not the best person to get my cherry. You’re fucking huge.”

I shrugged. “It just means I have to spend more time getting you ready.”

“How do you do that?” he asked.

I leaned in and kissed him. “I’ll show you how I’d prep you, but then you’re going to fuck me.”

“Awesome,” he said.

I moved my mouth to his neck, then his chest and nipples, then lower across his abdomen. When my lips began to trace where his treasure trail would have been, he arched his back and moaned. I logged that into my brain in the Colin sexual information folder, that his lower abdomen was super erotic for him. I sucked on his dick for a bit, but he was getting pretty worked up, so I moved down to his balls, then his taint, with its sexy dusting of his dark blond hair. He liked that a lot, so I put that in the folder as well. I blew on his cute little pucker, making him moan in pleasure. As my fingers gently traced the outline of his hole, his moans got louder still, but when I replaced my fingers with my mouth and tongue, he moaned so loud I was worried they could hear it in the hallway. I grabbed some lube, which got a nervous look from him, but he relaxed when I used it on my finger. I gently probed him, working his prostate, until I got the reaction I wanted. Only he liked it so much, he came. I nursed his prostate as long as he seemed to like it, even as I moved forward to suck the last bit of cum out of his dick.

“That was awesome,” he said, as he lay there panting. I thought about the two other times he’d shot his load, not to mention how he reacted when I’d started to blow him, and came to the conclusion that he had a real short trigger. When the afterglow subsided, he got uncomfortable. “I should probably get back to my room.”

“I already explained to you that wasn’t an option,” I said playfully, only he didn’t smile back, he looked at me with what seemed to be pain. This was really bothering him. “Does that happen to you a lot?”

“What?” he demanded in a super defensive way. Even an amateur psychologist like me could visibly see his shields going up.

“Come really quickly,” I said. He made to get up, but I held him down. “Dude, relax.”

“I feel like a failure, every time I have sex with someone,” he said sadly, staring at the ceiling. My heart went out to him when I saw that his eyes were wet.

“You are not a failure,” I said firmly. “You just need more practice, and you need to try to train yourself not to blow so fast.”

“What if that doesn’t work?” he asked.

“Then you go see a doctor,” I said simply.

He cringed. “Yeah, try telling a navy doctor you suffer from premature ejaculation. He’ll tell me I’m wasting his time.”

I chuckled. “I’ll bet they’ve dealt with it lots of times. Besides, if that freaks you out, go see a regular doctor. You can afford it.”

“I know I can afford it, but I don’t like to just piss money away,” he said. I laughed internally at how if JJ were here, that statement would be so foreign to him it wouldn’t even register.

“I’ll do some research and we’ll work on it,” I said. “Does it help you to jack off before you fuck someone?”

“You make is sound like I’ve fucked all kinds of people,” he said, grinning at me, then answered my question. “If it helps, it’s not much.”

“Have you fucked all kinds of people?” I asked him.

“I’m not a virgin,” he said, and was annoyed.

“Look, if I’m going to be your doctor and help you with this problem,” I said, adopting my fake officious voice with him, “you’re going to have to be candid with me about your sexual history.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said again, then started laughing at how goofy I sounded. “One dude and two girls,” he said.

“You said girls,” I noted quizzically. “Were these encounters with females of legal age?”

“Oh, so you ask me about the women but not the dude? You don’t care if he was underage?” he asked.

“Touché,” I responded, since he’d caught me showing off my gender bias. “I just gave my grandfather crap about that before you got here.”

“About fucking boys?” he asked.

“No, dumbass,” I said, chuckling. “About a double standard where you treat women having sex differently than men having sex.”

“They were all legal,” he said.

“So how is this going to work for you in the navy?” I asked, thinking that this was almost as bad as the NCAA and the NFL.

“I just have to be low-key,” he said resignedly.

“What happens when you have to go to an event or something where you have to take a date?” I asked.

“Then I don’t take a date,” he said. He didn’t add that he could get some girl to go with him as a cover, but we both knew that’s what would really happen.

“What about a family?”

“Dude, I’m 19 years old,” he said, getting annoyed with me. “I don’t even want to think about a family.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and instinctively reached out to touch his chest. “I’m just trying to figure out why you made this choice. I’m worried that you won’t be happy.”

He tilted his head so his eyes could bore into mine. “I love my country, I love the navy, and I love dick. I’m going to do the best I can to balance those.”

“Speaking of dick,” I said, and knelt over him, aiming my dick at his mouth. He obligingly started to suck me, while I held his head in my hand to help him regulate the depth, only I was feeling a whole lot of teeth. “Open a little wider,” I said. He gave me a dirty look but did what I said, and then it felt great. “Good job,” I said, moaning. I enjoyed his oral intentions for a while, then moved my hand down to stroke his dick to get it hard, but there was no need. He had a problem cumming too soon, but he had no problem getting an erection.

I lubed up his dick and lubed up my hole, then slowly lowered myself down on him. The slowness served two purposes: it let me adapt to his large intruder since I hadn’t prepped myself at all, and it kept the stimulation to a minimum so he didn’t cum right away. “God, that’s good,” he said, and tried to thrust into me.

“Don’t move,” I ordered. I began to rock my body forward and back in really slight movements, enough to let his dick work my prostate, while I stroked my own cock. Somehow, going so slow and being careful not to overly stimulate him was more erotic than him just slamming into me over and over again, and I felt my orgasm slowly starting to build. As I felt us getting closer to a climax, I stopped moving, letting him calm down, then I started all over again. After the third time, I knew I couldn’t hold out any longer, and I was damn sure he couldn’t. I felt my own orgasm building, and the closer it got, the more I moved my body, and the more I stimulated him. Amazingly enough, I started shooting first, and when I did, I just let myself go, and all but hopped up and down on his cock. Probably half a second after I started, he started too, and we both rode our orgasms down to a very peaceful euphoria.

I leaned in and kissed him, then slid off of him and back onto my side, facing him. “That was amazing,” I said, in between my residual panting.

“Dude, I have never experienced anything that good,” he said, looking at me in amazement. “How many guys have you fucked?”

“A lot,” I said. I watched him react to that, with the standard disdain for sluttiness that permeated our society. “If I wouldn’t have, that wouldn’t have been as good, so aren’t you glad I did?”

That logic seemed to register in his brain. “Very glad,” he said. We lay there for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being sexually satisfied, when I heard his very soft snores.

I thought about what he said about joining the navy and got where he was coming from. His whole theme was that life was about making compromises, and you had to fit yourself into the mold the best way you could. Only what if it wasn’t about compromises, what if it was about just being who you are and doing what you like to do?

October 11, 2003

Bristol, CT

 

JJ

“I like you like this. You’re soft and cuddly,” Carullo said to me, referring to all the extra weight I was carrying. I was sprawled across his massive body after enjoying yet another amazing round of sex. This guy knew just how to ignite my body, and he’d left me in too good of a mood to be bitchy about his reference to my portliness.

“Well enjoy it now, because it’s not going to last,” I said. I was determined to get back to normal as soon as possible.

“If those pills would have worked, it would have been a good trade off,” he said, reminding me of how different our world views were.

“Well they didn’t,” I said, being a little bitchy. “So I have to hope these new ones do the trick.” That prompted me to roll off of him, dig through my bag, and take my morning dose.

“What do you want to do today?” he asked. “We can go hiking, but that’s probably better tomorrow.”

“What’s the weather forecast?” I asked. I’d just assumed it would be like New York, in the mid-50s.

“Cloudy and maybe some rain today, sunny tomorrow,” he said.

“Then today we go shopping,” I announced.

“Jay…” he said, beginning to argue with me.

“Let’s check out your shower,” I said. He followed me in there nervously, although I’d noticed last night that he’d cleaned it up pretty well and had put fresh towels out for us.

“Needs some work,” he said apologetically. It was a shower in the tub, with a curtain that was pretty old and nasty. Evidently he didn’t pay much attention to that. The tub was old, and it was possible to see mold growing in the grout, but I ignored that.

“It works for me,” I said. He fucked me again in the shower; the speed at which he recharged was incredible. If things had turned out like I had subconsciously hoped they would and we’d ended up together, he probably would wear me out. Then I thought about how much fun sex was with him and decided that I could keep up with him just fine.

He led me downstairs to the kitchen, which was ridiculously small and cramped. I stared at the kitchen and dining area, and how it was walled off from the front room. While he made us eggs and bacon for breakfast, which I agreed to eat even though it wasn’t on my diet, I ran upstairs and got my note pad out and started sketching plans. He put the plate loaded with food in front of me, even as I looked at him skeptically. “You’re staying with me, you have to eat what I eat,” he said with a smarmy grin.

“Then you’ll just have to help me work off these extra calories later,” I said.

We finished eating and I helped clean up by putting my dirty dishes in the sink, then he led me downstairs to an open area that had boxes and shit piled all over the place, through a laundry room with a crappy washer and dryer, and into the garage. I stared at the old Buick in front of me in horror. “Didn’t have much money left after I bought the condo, and my credit is bad,” he said apologetically.

“How did you buy the condo?” I asked. I mean, if his credit was bad, then how did he get a home loan? Or maybe it didn’t work that way? I really was clueless about mortgages.

“Stef helped me out,” he said.

“Well then I’m going to help you out and fix this car issue,” I declared. “First stop is a car dealer.”

“You are not buying me a car,” he said loudly, expecting me to back down.

“Look,” I said to him even more loudly. There was absolutely no way he could out-bitch me. “I feel really bad about how I acted, especially about how you moved out. This lets me at least make up for that.”

“I treated you just as badly,” he said sadly, “plus you had all that shit going on in your brain.” I rolled my eyes at the way he put it, even as I climbed into the car and noted the word “Century” written on the dashboard as if it were a major mark of excellence.

“Plus I really like you, and I want to do nice things for you,” I said.

“You don’t have to spend money on me,” he grumbled, starting to cave.

“I want to,” I said. “Plus if I’m going to come up and visit you, you need to have better shit.”

“Who says I want you to come visit me?” he asked, falling right into my trap.

“I’m sorry,” I said, acting all sad. “I can see why you wouldn’t want me to be around.”

“Jay, that’s not it at all,” he said, frustrated. I pretended to wipe away a tear. “Fine, we can go shopping today.”

“Thanks,” I said. He frowned at me.

“Which car dealer?” he asked.

“What kind of car do you want?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, which was so annoying.

I’d need help with that, so I decided to contact the person who was, in my mind, the expert on cars. I took out my phone, noticed that it was only 10am here, and that meant it was 7am in California. Grand would be up, a conclusion that was validated when he picked up on the second ring. “Good morning,” he said, and sounded surprised, since I almost never called him.

“Good morning,” I said in a chipper mood. “I need your advice.”

“I am happy to help,” he said.

“I’m visiting John Carullo, and his car is a piece of shit, so I’m taking him to buy a new one,” I explained. “He’s going to try to get me to buy him something really cheap with cloth seats or something horrible like that, so I need you to talk to him and then tell me what to get him.”

“Put him on the phone,” Grand said. They yammered back and forth about sedans and coupes and SUVs and spewed out a bunch of words I didn’t understand at all. We were heading toward Hartford, and I hoped we didn’t actually have to go to that God-awful city.

I saw signs for a Best Buy ahead, so I nudged Carullo and pointed to the exit. He pulled into the parking lot and finally finished his call with Grand, handing me the phone. I noticed that we’d taken up about 20 minutes of Grand’s time. “JJ?” he asked me.

“I’m here,” I said pleasantly, since he was doing me a favor.

“Here’s what I propose. I would suggest that you go to the Acura Dealer in West Hartford, and plan to get there at 1:00pm. Everything will be arranged,” he said. I was ecstatic, because I loved it when other people did all the work to make my plans come to fruition.

“Got it. Thank you so much!” I said.

“I’ll call you later and tell you whom to speak with when you get there,” he said, and then ended the call.

“What are we doing here?” Carullo asked. I ignored him and labored to push open the creaky rusty doors of the Buick Century, and headed into Best Buy, knowing that he’d follow me. I headed to the appliance section. “What are you going to buy now?”

“What if I have to do laundry?” I asked. “Just go look at televisions.”

“Fine,” he said, and went off to browse. In half an hour, I’d bought him a new washer and dryer, then tracked him down in the television department, just as I thought.

“Nice TV,” I said, admiring the picture on a big Sony.

“You are not buying me a new television,” he said.

“Let’s go,” I said, ignoring him again, and he followed me out to the Buick. I was so glad I didn’t know anyone here, otherwise they might see me in this crappy car. “Your washer and dryer are going to be delivered and installed on Monday.”

“I won’t be home on Monday,” he said, getting all worried. “I’ll be at work.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll stick around and wait for them, then leave after they’re done,” I said. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and my schedule was open until Monday night anyway.

“No,” he said forcefully. “You have to stay until Monday night so I can take you out to dinner to thank you.”

“I’ll try,” I said. “Now stop over there at Bed Bath and Beyond.”

“Christ,” he muttered. We spent a lot longer there, because I got all new bedding with 1000 thread count sheets, and a new shower curtain, rug, towels, and accessory set for his bathroom. Conveniently enough, Grand called me and told me the name of the dude to talk to at the Acura Dealer just as we were leaving.

“We need to go to the Acura Dealer,” I told Carullo.

“You are not fucking buying me an Acura!” he objected.

“Grand already took care of it,” I said, as if I had nothing to do with it. “We’re just going to pick it up.”

“No way,” he argued.

“Do you really want to piss him off? I mean, pissing me off is bad enough, but he can be fucking scary,” I said to him.

“Fine,” he grumbled. He took me out to dinner that night driving his new Acura MDX. Grand had gotten it in red, to remind him of his days at Stanford.

Copyright © 2018 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Dear Mr Arbour,
Effing no to Will getting into a relationship with a relative who won't come out of the closet for a while and might be shipped to the Middle East and killed. Please...
Signed, 
maybe most of everyone

Is it just me or I find hilarious how JJ and Carullo are so good for each other but do not understand at times? Carullo doesn't care about the money he loves JJ, JJ can't stand Carullo not living in a place he would himself live. I think Carullo has gotten of easy with just a car (and yeah JJ comes into the family trend of gifting cars to their lovers)

And a big thank you for another amazing book and for this amazing family of incredible people you have brought into reality. 

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23 hours ago, mmike1969 said:

1) I find it very hard to believe Stef would help out John buy a townhouse / condo without updating it beforehand.

2) JJ is STILL whining about  5 LBS???!!?? Wait until he becomes an adult and gains real weight.

3) I’m shocked the driver (unnamed because JJ doesn’t care most likely) doesn’t quit. Even professional drivers don’t put up with shitheads for long.

4) I could swear John already had a car bought by someone else earlier in the Stories...

5) Wait until Will has sex with a Marine. Those guys are freaks. 

1.) That's a good point but I also think John rebuffed him and Stefan didn't press it.

2.) Agreed. Even if it's slowed down by the medication a nearly 18-year old generally has an enviable metabolism  Wait til he hits his late 20's.

3.) He's probably getting overpaid so he's staying because of that.

4.) I'm not sure that Carullo did- he's been a friend with benefits with various lead characters since 1998 but he hasn't been an A-level pet with anyone until JJ. Just tell yourself that if he did get one, Carullo sold it when he moved to New York City.

5.) Since Will is going to Harvard, I'm  actually rooting for Will to fall in love with a male version of Jenny from Love Story, aka a self-righteous scholarship case with a caustic wit who successfully plays hard to get.

 

Edited by methodwriter85
  • Like 3
On 6/13/2020 at 4:06 AM, Headstall said:

I just love Carullo. He might not see it, but him and JJ make a good pair. :)  Thanks, Mark.

I can see a long deep and meaningful conversation between Stef and JJ about partners and how stuffy professors and rowdy unfashionable young men can sometimes make the best life partners

I can also imagine Carullo stuck in JP's office while Stef and JJ talk... so John what are your intentions towards my grandson :) 

  • Like 2
  • Haha 3
32 minutes ago, Bucket1 said:

I can see a long deep and meaningful conversation between Stef and JJ about partners and how stuffy professors and rowdy unfashionable young men can sometimes make the best life partners

I can also imagine Carullo stuck in JP's office while Stef and JJ talk... so John what are your intentions towards my grandson :) 

Lol... yeah, you make a great point, but I doubt very much JJ and John will become a couple... not long term anyway. :) 

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