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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.

Stonegate Stables - 21. Chapter 21

We left the next morning for the final GP, the grand finale of the year. It was in Florida, which made a pleasant change from the December chill of East Texas. I brought Tommy along, figuring that he had been with me at the beginning so he might as well get to see the end, however it turned out. Matt had never been out of Houston till he came home with Vincent and Jesse, so he was thrilled with the circus atmosphere of the show grounds. He and Vincent went off to explore as I checked my gear, studied the course layout, and bit my nails, nervous as a whore in church now that I was actually here.

I was too tightly wound to sit still, so I hopped on Calvin and worked him for a couple hours on the flat, practicing quick turns and lead swaps. He was really getting the hang of it, yielding to just the slightest pressure of my legs and hands, and I knew we had a chance on Sunday.

We ate in the hotel that night with Amanda. She was in fine form, decked out with big diamonds and deep cleavage. Matt was entranced by her, especially when she called the waiter a 'half-dicked peckerwood' under her breath cause he was slow with her drink. She thought Matt was adorable and spent the evening entertaining him with stories of her sharecropper childhood, advantageous marriage, and eventual metamorphosis into wealthy social butterfly and horse aficionado. She invited him to sit in her owner's box for the Gran Prix but Matt politely declined, wanting to be in the stables where the action was.

Amanda had gotten us a suite, two bedrooms on either side of a living area. We claimed one bedroom, Matt settled into the other, and it was lights out since we were all tired from the travel and time change. Friday I rode both horses for a couple hours each, while Vincent and Matt went to the beach. It was too cold to swim but Matt had a ball gathering shells, feeding the noisy gulls, and eating at every food vendor on the pier. That night we did the cocktail party thing. Matt got hit on by every woman under forty and most of the waiters, and I saw him return a few smiles. Adam did a double take when he saw Matt in a suit, raising his eyebrows at me and smiling. I nodded in bemused acknowledgement, fighting back a weird urge to lock Matt in his room until he turned 30.

Saturday night we stayed in. I wanted to get a decent night's sleep, and I was tired of smiling my way through hours of boozy parties, and getting pinched on the ass by lonely, drunken women. Vincent stretched me out on the bed and gave me a wonderful massage, starting at my feet and working his way up my body, his hands warm and strong. He was just leaving my ass for my back when our door pushed open a little and Matt poked his head in. We were naked and Matt looked at us for a minute before coming in to stand by the bed. He was wearing boxers, tented out in front from his erection.

Vincent and I both just looked up at him and finally he blurted out, "Can I sleep in here tonight? I'm really tired of jerkin' off by myself."

I stared at him for another few seconds, but I couldn't stand it and burst into laughter. I grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed, rolling half onto him, his hard penis pressing into my hip. I tried to be serious, but his frustrated expression was too funny. I finally got myself under control and looked down at him. "Are you sure that's what you want, Matt?"

He didn't reply, just lifted his head and kissed me. It was a wonderful kiss -- a little hesitant but full of heat -- and it went straight to my dick, stiffening it quickly. Vincent had been watching, and when my cock got hard he joined us, nuzzling into the kiss and stealing Matt's mouth from me. I finally gave in to something I’d wanted to do since I'd first seen his body; I moved slowly down Matt's smooth chest, tickling those hard pink nipples with my tongue, and then sliding his shorts slowly down his flat belly, following the waistband with my mouth. He was baby smooth clear down to his groin. There a wispy patch of curls surrounded his cock, which was hard and twitching with arousal.

His penis was an even darker pink than his nipples, with a fat head and a shaft that thickened slightly toward the base. I ran a finger down the underside, smiling as his cock leaped up from his belly again and again. When I reached his smooth balls, I cupped them in one palm, feeling their weight, then pushed them snugly against his body as he spread his legs and arched his hips up into my hand. I lowered my face to him, my lips tugging gently at those curls, still damp from his shower; then nuzzled into his belly. I lapped up the drop of precum that was sliding down the head of his cock, tasting him for the first time. After probing his slit gently, I began to suck him.

The next hour was wonderful. Matt was a little reserved at first, but relaxed quickly as we kissed and rubbed and licked him to what was maybe the first orgasm he'd ever had where it was all about him. I've never seen so much cum blast out of one dick. Maybe it was the combined efforts of our two mouths and four hands; maybe it was because he was young, but he just kept shooting and shooting, plastering his chest with shotgun spatters of thin, milky ejaculate that ran down his ribs in little rivulets. He lay there breathing hard for a few moments, eyes closed; then he began to smile, started to chuckle, and finally laughed aloud.

"God, that was great!" he practically shouted, sitting up to hug and kiss us both at once. That broke the ice, and after that he was playful and incredibly sexy, sucking Vincent to an eye-crossing orgasm, one finger doing magic things in his ass. When Matt had first slid his hand down below Vincent's balls, I'd felt Vincent tense up for a moment, then relax to let him in. I knelt over Vincent's face, getting a tongue bath until he had to quit to climax; then, after Vincent caught his breath, it was my turn.

Vincent put me on my back and slid into me easily while pressing my legs back to lean down and kiss me. Matt backed off a little, watching us soberly. This was probably a little too close to home for him, and we made no effort to include him; but it wasn't long before he crawled to me, playing with my nipples and kissing me while Vincent fucked me slowly. I knew Vincent was good for another orgasm and sure enough, when I got close he pulled out and joined me as we came on my belly, smiling at each other as we grunted through it.

Afterward, Matt touched first Vincent's cock, then mine, licking the cum from his fingers each time. I watched him, wondering what this meant to him, to be with men who cared for him and to fuck for fun and cause it felt good, not because you needed to make rent. When he lifted his eyes to mine, they were clear and untroubled, and I pulled him down to me, hugging him close. "Love you, Matty."

That surprised him; he went still in my arms, then relaxed and sighed deeply. "I didn't think I'd ever get away from him. Then Vincent found me and I thought maybe I had a chance. Thank you so much." I held him for another minute, then yawned in his face. I had a big day tomorrow.

The suite had a large square shower that was a perfect fit with three of us in it. I couldn't believe the change in Matt. While Vincent washed him, Matt soaped me. He played with my ass enough to get another rise out of me, but I really needed to get some sleep, so we settled down in bed with Vincent in the middle. Like the night before my first GP, I was awake at 4am, huddled at one end of the couch in the center room when Vincent came in.

"You're gonna do great," he whispered to me as he lifted one side of my blanket and snuggled in behind me. "Win or lose, you've done a wonderful job of it." I nodded and let him hold me close, soothed as always by the feel of his body next to mine.

I’d done pretty well for coming into the GP circuit on such short notice like I had, and win or lose, I would always have that.

The next morning I dressed carefully in white breeches and shirt, stock, formal black jacket, and my Sergio Grasso boots; if I didn’t ride well, I would at least look damn good. Vincent wolf-whistled and Matt ran his eyes over me, lingering at the nice package that the snug breeches made of my cock and balls.

Amanda had catered brunch in a big tent at the end of our barn so we munched on shrimp cocktail, ham and roast beef sliced to order, platters of veggies and cheeses, more salads than I could name, and an entire table of sweets. Matt ate his way through it twice before slowing down to concentrate on the things he liked best. I schmoozed our various sponsors, thanking them for supporting me after Simon's unfortunate accident, blah, blah, blah. A couple of them eyed Vincent and Matt, wondering, I suppose, exactly what our relationship was. I was wondering that a bit myself after last night.

I managed to eat a decent amount and oddly enough, I wasn’t especially nervous. I think my emotions had been so overworked lately that one more GP just wasn’t enough to get me excited, even if it was the most important one of the year. Tommy had both horses looking like a million bucks and presented me with a new set of spurs from him and Alejandro, engraved with ‘run fast, jump high’ across the inside. They were beautiful – bright, shiny stainless steel with raised oak leaves on the sides. I kissed him affectionately and strapped them on, thinking that if it all ended right then, I'd be a happy man.

Amanda surprised me with ownership transfer papers for Calvin, reasoning that since no one but me could ride him to his full potential, I might as well have him. She’d paid $30k for him almost two years ago and had just been offered $250k, but she liked his quirky personality and didn’t really want to part with him. She suggested he might be a good breeding stallion if I didn’t want to show him. Just when I’d decided that Stonegate wasn’t a breeding facility, I found myself with a worthwhile stallion and TJ’s mare Ginger. Hmmm. I wondered what a baby from that cross would look like.

Matt and Vincent came back in time to see me hop on Donna, both of them kissing me for luck. As I rode away sorting out the double reins, something caught my eye. Vincent had written 'I love you' on a little piece of paper and pinned it to the saddle pad, just in front of the pommel where I could see it but no one else could. I turned quickly in the saddle to see him watching me with a smile. He thumped his fist over his heart twice and off I went.

Donna was 3rd to go in a big field of twenty-seven horses with Cal going 21st and Adam bringing up the rear. I rode past his barn where he was just getting tacked up. He came over and squeezed my leg as I leaned down to hug him. We each said 'good luck' at the same time and grinned at each other. If I couldn’t win, I hoped Adam would.

The course was big, with fifteen jumping efforts, all of them formidable. Donna was perfect, leaping over each fence like she was programmed, cruising through the finish cones a few seconds under the allotted time. So far, so good; now for Calvin.

Tommy had been warming him up for me, so when I got back to the barn, we just threw my saddle on him. He was on the muscle already, snorting and shifting restlessly, geared up from the crowd noise and the tension and excitement of his handlers. Tommy tossed me onto his back and I almost went off the other side when Calvin stepped toward us unexpectedly. Tommy looked up at me and shook his head. "You better go wear his ass out before you get in the ring or he'll dump you on your head."

That sounded like excellent advice so I went off to the warm-up ring and cantered him in big figure 8s, doing three flying lead changes across the center. It's not every jumper who can do one-tempi changes so we attracted some attention and I heard cameras clicking. Just then a collective 'awwwww' rose from the crowd, and I knew that some poor horse had either plowed through a jump or refused it entirely. I quickly replaced that thought with a mental image of Amanda and me accepting the championship trophy. What the hell -- if you're gonna dream, dream big.

All too soon we were entering the arena to a big round of applause, and I circled Calvin as I scanned the jumps to get my bearings. We took the first three without even breathing hard, but 4, 5, and 6 were a tricky combination that required our full attention. He ticked the second rail of the third jump but it stayed up. Then we were good until 11, which was a high vertical wall made of heavy cardboard bricks. The horse can't see through it and it wasn't an obstacle that had been used during the year.

Cal took a long look as we approached and decided he didn't care for it. I felt him back off and had to ride the bejesus out of him, using my voice, the whip, and Tommy's new spurs to get him over it in one piece. Even then, he took off at the last possible second and just about pushed a brick off the top. It hung there, waiting for a breeze to finish the job, but it stayed up.

Jump 14 was a big oxer, (my favorite!), with a hard right turn to the final jump. Cal slipped a little when he left the ground and twisted in the air when I asked for a right lead. He came down hard and jounced me out of the saddle, jerking my right foot free of the stirrup. When I hit the saddle again, I was off center and my left nut got crushed between the front of the saddle and my pelvic bone. I was sure my agonized shriek was loud enough to be heard in New Jersey but the crowd was so noisy that no one heard me except Calvin, and it spooked him.

He stumbled slightly but charged on to the final vertical at full speed. I barely had time to rate his stride to get us there correctly when he launched into a huge jump that cleared the top rail by a foot, and then we were galloping through the finish cones. The photo that got printed in every horse paper in the country the next week showed Calvin with his ears pinned flat to his head, a big white streamer of cotton trailing comically from one ear, and me stretched out along his neck with my mouth wide open, an expression of absolute torture on my face. My hard hat was askew, my right stirrup was flapping in the breeze, and you could see the whites of both our eyes. If you didn't know better, you'd think I'd been on a horse three times in my entire life and I was riding a runaway.

Tommy had to come into the ring to catch Cal, cause I couldn't get him under control with only one stirrup and a testicle that hurt so badly I figured I'd limp the rest of my natural life. He led us back to the barn where he and Vincent caught me as I fell out of the saddle with both hands cupping my nuts. They got me into a stall and I stood there spraddle-legged for several minutes before gingerly lowering my breeches to see if I still had two balls. Vincent, Matt, and Tommy all bent over to look closely as I lifted my dick out of the way, and reported that everything looked okay. Since it wasn't badly swollen or discolored, I sat down carefully with an icepack and a pain killer handed out by the sympathetic medic who had seen my ride and came by to see how I was doing.

When Adam's turn came, I wobbled over to ringside to watch him go clear. That made four of us in the jump-off, me on two horses; but the thought of getting those two horses over seven more jumps each sent shudders through me and made my gut churn with dread. If I forfeited, that meant we'd place 4th and 5th, off the podium. Amanda took the pressure off by announcing that watching my wild ride had been worth every fucking nickel and as far as she was concerned, I could sit it out. Matt and Vincent just looked at me with identical expressions of pained sympathy and were no help at all. It was Tommy who squatted down in front of me, gripped my knees hard, and looked me in the eye.

"Sean. You can do this. You got robbed once before, don't let it end without you."

He hunkered there staring at me and I thought about how much more satisfying it always was later to have done the hard thing. I nodded at him and dropped my breeches to my ankles, then we gently duct taped my balls up out of the way of the saddle. It looked and felt pretty odd but if it let me make it through 57 seconds on each horse, I didn't care.

I was to ride 1st and 5th, so I had Tommy warm up Donna and I got on her just a few minutes before they called us. Because of the duct tape I couldn't sit quite like I normally did in the saddle, and I could tell Donna was wondering what the hell the problem was. We made it around clear, although we were right at the time allowed. The next two horses both had a rail down, so Donna was in first so far.

Adam rode beautifully, turning his big stallion tightly this way and that as he cut corners. He went clear a couple seconds quicker than Donna to take over first, and then it was Cal's turn. He was still wound up from our first go and I really had to get after him before he started listening to me. We roared around the course clean, following the path Adam had taken – saving a stride here and there – and as we crossed the line, I knew it was really close.

I had just left the arena when the board updated and the crowd went crazy. I turned to look and saw #46, Adam's number, at the top of the list. He'd been two one hundredths faster than me to win the round, and with it, the championship. I felt a moment of sharp disappointment and found Amanda's eyes in the crowd around the gate. 'Sorry' my expression said, but she was grinning and elbowing her way toward me, followed by the guys.

"What a great fucking year! I've never finished this high, and with both goddamn horses! You're the best! I love you!"

People turned to look at her, laughing at her exuberance; I grinned back, shaking my head at her language. She was the owner; my job was to please her and evidently she was thrilled, so I let it go. Second and third was pretty damn good. Back at the big tent, I got drunk on the case of Krug's Clos du Mesnil Amanda had brought along for the occasion. Matt blew a mouthful out his nose when I told him it went for around $350 a bottle. He was coughing and laughing as we pounded him on the back. Even Vincent, who handles some decent wines at Corleone's, paled a little when he heard that. I reassured them that Amanda (or rather, her husband) could afford it, and that she’d get a pretty good paycheck for second and third place.

Amanda pounded the champagne down like water, toasting everyone and everything that came to mind. After the 4th or 5th toast, I started getting woozy from the painkillers and alcohol and had to sit down. By that point, I’d lost what little modesty I normally have, so, accompanied by a few whistles and ooos and ahhhs, we made a production of cutting off my duct taped underwear. The medic wielded the scissors since he was the only one still sober. Once my dick and balls were exposed, there were a few whoas and sympathetic grimaces, but being drunk had its advantages and I blithely ignored them. The medic said something about there maybe being some pink in my semen the next time I ejaculated, and if it happened a second time I should go see the doctor right away.

I put on a loose pair of jeans and re-joined the party just as Adam came by to make sure I was still a man. He kissed one finger and barely touched it to my crotch. I grabbed him in a huge congratulations hug, kissing him thoroughly before handing him over to Vincent. Matt was sufficiently lubricated with Krug to do his own hugging and kissing, surprising us all, and I saw Adam take a second look at Matt as he was leaving.

Amanda’s driver dropped us back at the hotel after far too many toasts and a dinner that I have no recollection of. I don't know where Amanda put it, but she kept up with us drink for drink and barely showed the effects. Vincent and I were thoroughly hammered and had to hang onto the furniture while getting undressed. Matt was fairly sober – he didn’t like the taste of alcohol much – so he fed us both a few aspirin and made us each drink a big glass of water before maneuvering us into the bed where we all passed out.

Morning was awful. It was way too sunny and the waiter at breakfast insisted on talking loudly as he chattered about muffin choices and the fifty ways they could fix eggs, all of which made me think seriously about barfing. It was a relief to crawl onto Amanda's jet and curl up on the big couch with a bottle of aspirin and Vincent to hold me. My abused testicle felt like it would be normal again someday and I was able to sleep for most of the flight. We got home in the early afternoon and just lay around the house while Maria kept us supplied with juice, cheese and crackers, and fresh veggies and fruit – wholesome foods that made me feel like living again. We went to bed early and felt fairly decent the next morning, so we all went off to work.

It was a school day for Matt, so I dropped him at Wade's on my way to the barn. That was working out well. The tutor had given him a series of tests to determine where he needed to focus, so the time spent was very productive and he studied every night at the kitchen island while we made dinner.

I was really enjoying the family aspect of having Matt in the house. Vincent and I had both lived alone for so long that we were very self-sufficient. Although Matt had looked after himself on the street for years, he was much younger, and now that he had the opportunity, he looked to Vincent and me for the affection and parenting he'd missed out on. It was very satisfying, fulfilling some need I hadn't realized I had.

Vincent was very solicitous of my busted nut, soaping me gently when we showered and leaving me alone for a few days until I finally had to ask him to fuck me. The medic was right; the first time I ejaculated, with Vincent’s dick buried in my ass, there was a pinkish tinge in the cum that splashed over my chest. We both eyed it warily but it didn't happen again, and after a couple weeks I was good as new.

Matt slept in his own room most nights, joining us now and then, always at his own discretion. Vincent and I, aware of his past and his age, never approached him sexually. The age of consent in Texas is 18 and we were very mindful of the word 'consent', always leaving the first move to Matt. We touched him a lot and hugged and kissed him regularly, but there was a difference between affection and seduction, and we all knew it. Matt frequently went from affection to seduction in the space of two minutes, catching us off guard occasionally, but we were always willing to shift gears.

Actually, I figured we were a little old for him, and began to wonder when he'd be interested in other guys, but then it occurred to me that most of his customers probably had been men my age or older, so that's what Matt was used to.

Now that GP season was over, Adam was around the barn every day and ran into Matt regularly, always stopping to talk with him. They seemed to be developing a firm friendship. Adam took Matt to lunch now and then, and came back to our place for dinner a couple nights a week. I assumed Adam was still seeing Dylan, but I hadn't heard from Dylan since Thanksgiving and wasn't sure what was up with them.

The only lingering effect of Matt's past was a tendency to drift away mentally, gazing out the window for minutes at a stretch with a somber expression. Actually, since I hadn't known him before, this may simply have been a personality trait he'd had all along, but it didn't feel like that to me. Any time I interrupted him at it, it would take him an extra moment to be fully aware of me. On days when he did this, he was always more needy emotionally, coming to Vincent or me to be held often, and joining us at night to just cuddle up and sleep.

One day when I saw him lost in thought in the den, I went to him, running my hand through his hair. “Can you tell me, Matt?”

He took my hand and pulled me down into the big chair with him, turning to lay his face against my chest. I dropped my cheek to the top of his head, held the back of his neck with one hand and rubbed big slow circles on his back with the other, while he got his thoughts together.

“I feel like I can’t forget it,” he said slowly. “Like part of me will be gone if I don’t keep it in my head.” He sighed deeply and I struggled for the right words to help him.

“Is there anything good that you can remember, and let the bad stuff go?”

He was quiet for a bit. “Yeah, some of them were nice to me. They gave me extra money, more than I had to give Ray, and sometimes they bought me something to eat. One guy gave me a jacket when it got cold.”

Hearing him express gratitude for the basic needs that most kids never give a second thought to gave me chills and I hugged him close, more to comfort myself than him. I waited until I knew my voice would be steady before I replied.

“Then just keep those good parts, Matty, and let the rest go. You never have to worry about any of that again, so just let it fade away.”

He nodded against my chest and then lifted his head for a kiss. We sat there until Vincent came home from a catered dinner, Matt asleep in my arms, and Vincent smiled at us when he walked into the den around ten.

“Is he okay?” he asked softly, bending down to kiss me hello. I took a hand off Matt and held Vincent’s face to mine for a moment, happy to have him home. He knelt down next to the chair and hugged us both, waking up Matt, who gave him a sleepy smile.

Christmas was only a few weeks away and Saturday we got the bug to decorate, so Matt and Vincent went for a tree while I dragged the boxes out of storage. I didn't have much since I had never really bothered, so I ran out and bought a bunch of stuff - lights, tinsel, ornaments. Good thing cause they came back with two trees, a small one for the den where we spent our evenings, and a huge one for the entryway. We had a great time decking the halls, swigging down spiked eggnog and singing along with every holiday CD we owned.

It was a wonderful day. Matt was happy and relaxed, his eyes bright with excitement as we stood the big tree up in the front hall. It was every inch of ten feet and we had to rig scaffolding out of two ladders and a couple boards to reach all of it. By the time we were finished, it was evening; I turned out the lights in that part of the house and handed Matt the plug. As the tree lit up the big hall with hundreds of tiny white lights, my chest tightened and I turned to take Vincent in my arms. He must have felt it too, cause he buried his face in my neck and held on tight for a long moment.

Matt had stopped staring at the tree and was watching us with a sort of lost look on his face, so I went to him and wrapped him up in a hug. Looking at the changes in Matt during his short while with us, I felt reassured that Vincent had been right to bring him into our home. I thought of all the other kids Ray had ruined over the years. I couldn't save them all, but I was damn sure gonna see that this one got every possible chance at a decent life.

The weeks leading up to Christmas went by in a pleasant blur of shopping, parties, too many cookies, employee reviews, Cody's birthday party, and God knows what else. I made sure Matt had money for shopping, padding his Stonegate pay a little with a 'bonus', and he and Adam went off one afternoon with secretive smiles on their faces. Danny came by the barn to drop off a bottle of wine and told me he and Becky had called it off. He didn't seem at all uncomfortable with me and even gave me a big hug when he left. He looked kind of relieved and happier than he had been in a while, and I smiled as he rattled away down the lane, remembering that morning in my office.

Christmas Eve we went to my folks in the late afternoon; this time Matt was much easier around them and our visit stretched into the early evening. They'd gotten him a digital camera with all the bells and whistles, and he spent the rest of the day consulting the manual and snapping photos, muttering to himself and hitting the 'garbage' key when he wasn't pleased with the results.

Then we stopped by Corleone's where the D'Ambruzzo clan had an annual ongoing party in the big meeting room. They still had a restaurant to run but assorted cousins, uncles, aunts, and in-laws came and went throughout the night. There were several tables groaning with food and Matt worked his way along them with a single-mindedness that made me smile.

The son of a third cousin looked more than a little interested in Matt, and I came across them later sitting thigh to thigh out on the dark steps leading up to Vincent's old apartment (now Tony's), talking away. Eduardo was in his early twenties and had the dark good looks that all the D'Ambruzzo men seemed to get; he was about an inch shorter than me and stockier. They looked good together, I mused, as I went back inside to have a Christmas drink with Vincent and Tony.

I mentioned Matt and Eduardo to Vincent, who thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "Eddie's okay. A little, uh, undecided maybe, but he's not a bad kid."

"Undecided, as in he can't make up his mind whether to be a cop or a fireman?"

"No, smartass, undecided as to whether he likes boys or girls. Right now he seems equally fond of both."

"Oh, my God . . ." I groaned, hanging my head.

He chuckled and slung an arm around my neck to pull me close. "Quit worrying about him, Sean. How much trouble can he get into sitting on the steps?"

I raised my eyebrows at him and he blinked, suddenly remembering more than one night when we were first seeing each other that we hadn't made it up more than five steps before our clothes started coming off.

"Right. I'll check on them in a minute," he said, handing me a glass of Corleone's famous Holiday Punch, the ingredients of which Vincent wouldn't tell even me. It was great stuff and I glugged it down with abandon, knowing Vincent was staying sober enough to drive us home. He came back from checking on Matt and Eddie with a slightly embarrassed expression, and rolled his eyes when I looked at him.

"They were kissing," he said, beginning to smile. "Maybe Eddie isn't as undecided as I thought." We gave them another ten minutes, then collected Matt from Eddie's arms and went home to bed.

Copyright © 2011 Gabriel Morgan; 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.
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