Somerset Farm 

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze

 

CHAPTER 12



Doug, Buck and Morgan sat on the edge of the raft with their feet
in the water in the order they finished after their race. Morgan was
protesting that someone fouled him by pulling on his foot so he lost his
second place position. He looked down at Buck, who started whistling and
studying cloud formations, until his eyes fell to the terrace and he saw
Marc flop down on the lounge he'd just vacated.

"Sonofabitch! Look at that. Paul's so horny he's calling in the
second string. I better get back there or I'll lose his load." Buck put a
hand on each of the two closest thighs, lifted himself and pitched forward
back into the water, then started swimming strongly to the terrace.

"What's with you?" Doug called, "Are you turning into a gang
banger? They can manage by themselves."

Buck stopped, rolled and giggled at Doug. "I'm just packing in
supplies for later," he called, then rolled again and took off.

"Oh." Doug said to himself, coloring and looking down at the water.

"Huh?" Morgan asked, looking at Doug for an explanation. "What did he mean
by that?"

Doug shrugged non-committally. "I guess he just wants to get laid by
everyone this afternoon." He changed the subject. "Did you like it? Buck
I mean."

"WAIT!" Buck shouted at Paul when he saw Paul climb on the foot of `his'
lounge.

Morgan laughed. "Like it? It couldn't have been better. He even covered
for me when I shot my wad too soon." He followed Doug's eyes to see Buck
stomping up the steps to the terrace, his lithe hard little body sparkled
in the sun.

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" Buck demanded. "Geeze, can't a guy even
take a break in this sweat shop? Work, work, work." He grabbed Marc's arm
and pulled, eyeing the brother's matching erections. When Marc was
standing and grinning at him, Buck flopped on his back replacing him on the
lounge. He wiggled around getting comfortable, then spread his legs and
arms in invitation to Paul.

"Well?" He asked. "What are you waiting for, frost? You old guys are so
slow. I thought you were in a hurry," he taunted, "or is slow motion fast
for you?"

Paul laughed while he knelt on the end of the lounge and walked closer on
his knees. "Marc? Stuff something in his mouth to shut him up, will you?"
he asked as he stretched himself out over Buck holding himself up with his
arms. "You need to learn Buckminster, my favorite neighbor, that slow is
better," he said lowering himself without looking. Buck reached down
quickly to steer or risk getting drilled in his balls.

Paul sank easily, the result of all the excessive lubrication, compliments
of Doug, Morgan and too much oil, then watched as Buck turned his head to
the side and opened his mouth to greet Marc's oozing cock as he snuggled up
to the side of the lounge on his knees. "Wow the best of both worlds,"
Buck mumbled, before talking became impossible.

Paul rested his upper body on his elbows, and lowered his lips to the top
of Marc's shaft touching his cheek to Buck's. When he started thrusting,
he kept it slow as promised, and slid his rod all the way in, then withdrew
it until Buck lifted his hips to be sure he wouldn't fall out, then he sank
back in until his body pressed Buck's balls and hard cock. Paul tried, but
he'd spent too much time watching and assisting so his pace increased with
Marc's body movements.

Doug and Morgan appeared dripping from the lake. They didn't race, but
Morgan was panting from extreme sensory overload. His hard cock was
quivering for immediate attention. Doug pushed him down on the nearby
lounge and joined him, then struggled to muscle Morgan's larger body over
his until caught Morgan's cock in his mouth. Morgan understood Doug's
actions when he found himself looking down on Doug's hard cock up close and
personal. He'd never even touched another guy's cock until that afternoon,
but he had visions and fantasies, and sixty-nining was a position near the
top of the chart, so he lowered his mouth eagerly. He wondered briefly if
he could ever get such an eight-inch monster all the way into his mouth,
and was thankful that he was on top in preference to being fucked in the
mouth by it as he realized he was doing to Doug without thinking about it.

Suddenly he was grinding himself into Doug's mouth. He felt like his cock
head was assaulting Doug's stomach, on its way to his small intestine,
except Doug lifted him, until his purple knob was held by Doug's lips. He
attempted to rebury himself, but Doug held him up easily and began sucking
him to be sure there were no reluctant sperm back paddling.

Morgan was so engrossed in what he felt and what Doug was doing to him, he
failed to notice that Doug had bent his knees so his feet were flat on the
lounge. Doug lifted him as he arched his body upward off the lounge, trying
to bury himself in Morgan's mouth. Morgan felt Doug spurting, and he
swallowed without thinking about it. He decided cum, if that's what it
was, not only didn't taste bad, it didn't taste like much of anything, but
when his libido considered the source; Doug's fantastic lithe young
swimmer's body, he suddenly wanted more, and started doing some serious
sucking of his own.

Just as Morgan collapsed on Doug, and Doug's butt thumped the lounge, Marc
started hollering and jumped back, pulling himself out of Buck's mouth and
away from his brother's suckerfish lips. "Oh no you don't Buckminster
little buddy! You aren't getting off that easy by just sucking me, no way.
I just waited hours for my turn, and if my OLDER brother ever gets done,
don't you dare move one muscle, because you're getting fucked by yours
truly, the young stud on this farm."

Buck looked up at Marc strangely. It was difficult for Buck to talk while
a guy who out weighted him by seventy-five pounds was pounding on him.
"If...you... didn't... want... to... get... sucked... off...keep... your... dick... out... of... my... mouth,"
he managed in staccato before Paul silenced him with his lips on his mouth.

Morgan slipped off Doug and lay on his side. Doug sat up reversed his ass,
and lay back down in front of him. Morgan thought that was a neat way to
watch the proceedings or antics on the other lounge and it seemed
appropriate that their bodies should touch Doug's back to his front. He
put an arm on Doug's chest, and pulled him back as he scooched forward.
Doug looked back over his shoulder and grinned, while he absently took
Morgan's hand and moved over his sweat and oil slicked body until Morgan
happily started moving his hand himself.

Marc went to the foot of the lounge and spread his brother's legs, then,
with a grin at the other boys; he got down on his knees and slithered
forward on his belly to attack Paul's ass and balls with his mouth.

When Paul felt Marc's lips and teeth on him, he paused in mid stroke and
twisted his upper body and neck to look back. All he could see were Marc's
eyes grinning back at him. "If you should happen to bite anything down
there, even accidentally, I promise you it will be your last mortal act on
this earth. Are you clear on that?" He asked slowly. For an answer, Marc
bobbed his head, and his toothy nibbles turned into lapping tongue work.
When Paul felt the change, he continued with Buck where he'd left off.

"Think he'd really kill his own brother?" Morgan whispered in Doug's ear,
before he kissed it.

Doug nodded, "Yup, I'd sure try if it was me, and Marc or you or anyone bit
my balls while I was preoccupied with getting laid," Doug paused and looked
back at Morgan, "or I guess at anytime, if it hurt. Wouldn't you?"

Morgan nodded his agreement. "You can probably tell I'm new at this. How
long have you and the Wilcott's been making it with each other?"

Doug giggled. "It seems like always, but actually since about noon on
Friday."

"I know you're staying here for the weekend, I meant how long have you, you
know, known each other, like this?"

"Since Friday, like I said. Paul and I work together, sort of, and we met
each other, like this on Friday."

"No shit? Did you have any experiences before then? How come you're
working, either of you? You can't be poor and go to Oaks, the word
`scholarship', is like shouting fuck in chapel."

Doug giggled at Morgan's accurate analogy. "You've got that right. Paul's
working to keep busy this summer and me, well my father's a tight wad, and
I want a new sound system, but actually, I'm enjoying the hell out of it.
Why are you working for Bucky, other than maybe working for him as an
attorney full-time in seven years?"

"My father does some business with him occasionally. They've known each
other for a few years. When Mr. Trenton found out about me wanting to go
to law school, he offered, and I jumped at the chance. He's so fucking
successful, it was a power trip for me to even meet him."

"Yeah it was for me too, except I thought I was dead meat when I first met
him this morning, after Buck blabbed that we got together, then right away,
he wanted to meet me. I felt like a fucking bug rushing into the spider's
jaws, but he's cool with it I guess and even likes me. Your father works
with him? I thought Bucky was a loner."

"He is. My dad buys things from him. You know, like if he starts chopping
up a company, my dad might buy a division or a subsidiary from him. Most
of what he spins off is making money, or has the potential to be turned
around, that kind of stuff."

"Oh, neat. Well anyway, welcome to the club that wasn't, until this
weekend. I guess that makes us all charter members."

Just then, Paul started making noises in his throat like a knife or spoon
caught in a disposal. He thrust down into Buck and rocked him back and
forth by moving his whole body. Buck locked his ankles around Paul's waist
and held on. Marc started making muffled screaming noises while he thumped
the backs of Paul's thighs and ass before he began pushing to get lose from
his brother.

Doug and Morgan started laughing when Paul closed his legs and got Marc's
head in a scissors lock holding it in a place where it shouldn't have been
in the first place. When Marc stopped struggling, Paul released his hold.

Marc pulled back, stood up and backed out of range. His grin announced
that he wasn't hurt. "Man! What a trip," he said after some deep
breathing, "until that head lock." Marc combed his ears back in place with
his hands dramatically as if they were badly bent from the experience.

Paul allowed his weight to settle on Buck gradually and he relaxed. Buck
dropped his legs, which was all he could move anyway. Morgan nudged Doug,
then whispered. "Look at that," he pointed with his chin to the other
lounge.

"What?" Doug asked, after looking but not seeing anything unusual.

"Have you ever seen such a beautiful animal? Even completely relaxed, I
can almost count the muscles in his back. I hope we can room together in
the fall. I can't wait to get my hands on him. I want to feel every inch
of him."

Doug nodded and smiled. "I don't think you'll have to wait that long. If
you think his back is tough, wait until you see him from the front when
he's mounted on you, and doing a little straining by doing a hundred push
ups in you, not touching you anywhere but in your ass with his cock. Then
he's really beautiful, and you won't want him to stop ever."

"Yeah, I'm getting hard again thinking about it."

"Is that what's working its way between my legs?" He asked jokingly. "We
better save some for tonight though. Buck and I are going back to the Hall
and spend the night alone, so you'll have these two studs all to yourself.
You'll be one tired puppy in the morning, but I promise it'll be a night
you'll never forget."

Marc started tapping Paul on the back lightly, with his arm stretched out
as far as he could get it, carefully out of his brother's range. Doug
giggled. "Watch this now. Marc's getting impatient. When he gets on
board, he's like a jackrabbit. He's not fast, he's so full of fuel or cum,
his throttle gets stuck wide open and he never stops until he comes. Then
he barely skips a stroke before he starts all over again, at least that's
what he did last night to all three of us. That's what I meant by one of
his sport's being sex. Marc's the real animal in that department.

When the tapping didn't stop, Paul lifted his head and nodded after
kissing Buck tenderly by way of thanks, and slowly lifted his whole body to
pull out of Buck. "Okay little brother, it's your turn, but only if Buck
wants too." He looked at Buck in question. "Do you? You looked half dead
after he finished with you last night."

Buck made believe he was thinking it over with nearly a straight
face, and without closing his wide spread legs with one foot on the terrace
on each side of the lounge. "I'm not sure," he looked up at Marc who was
nodding yes eagerly, like a starving puppy being teased with a bowl full of
food. "How many times do you think you can come?"

Marc got down on his knees, grabbed Buck's hand and started to kiss
it repeatedly. "As many times as you want, you name it. I'll even promise
to go slow like the old man. PLEASE?"

"None, if you go slow, but two or three if you do it like you did
last night. I really liked that, and now we're out in the sun, so I can
really see what's going on too."

"DEAL! Thanks Buck!" Marc exclaimed as he went from his knees to
being stretched out on top of Buck in a heartbeat, before Buck could change
his mind.

Marc started to lift Buck's legs until Paul stopped him with a bare
size eleven foot placed squarely on his butt. "Hold it little brother.
Two is fine, but you don't have time for old number three. If I let you
get the third one in you'd be too wiped out to cook dinner. You'd be
pissing and moaning about being too tired, and trying to sweet talk your
way out of it, just like you always do whether you've been fucking or
sleeping."

Marc tried to look pained when he twisted around to look up at
Paul. "I would not! I never tried to wheedle out of cooking. When did I?
Just name one time while you take your big clodhopper off my ass, please."

"The last time Mom and Dad were away was one I can think of.
Speaking of dinner, what are we having anyway?" Paul asked as he removed
his foot.

Marc frowned as he lifted Buck's legs to his shoulders. "All you
can think of is food, just when I'm trying to get laid. How about shrimp
scampi? That's easy and everyone likes shrimp." Only Buck saw the gleam
in Marc's eyes and his wink. "You'll have to run into town to the bakery
though, to get some French bread." Marc balanced on one elbow while he
guided himself. "Like now, before they close," he added as he sank easily
into Buck.

"Get serious. I'll just wait around back down here so I can watch
the action and when I see you start to come the second time, I better not
see you even twitch your ass again, or you'll find yourself pumping cum the
third time in the lake."

Marc nodded and started humping Buck like it was going to be his
last fuck before he died. Morgan watched with his mouth hanging open.
"Sonofabitch, you weren't kidding, he is a rabbit," he laughed. "Yo, Marco,
go man go!" he shouted. "You are flat ass unbelievable!"

Paul grinned at Morgan, and tossed his head up the hill toward the
house, then started walking that way. Morgan actually excused himself from
Doug and hurried to catch up. "What's up?" He asked Paul, then giggled
looking down at his cock. "Except for me," he looked over at Paul, "and
you too."

Paul grinned. "These say it all. I forgot to show you my bedroom.
Come on, you've been dry humping Douggie too long. There's no point in
wasting any."

"What about Marc?"

"He'll think he sneaked the third shot by me, but at least he won't
dare to complain about being too tired to cook, especially when I dig the
shrimp out of the freezer up here and hand them to him."

The rest of the afternoon was a blur for Paul and Morgan, Marc and
Buck, but not for Doug. He enjoyed idly playing with himself and watching
for a while from where he lay on his lounge. When he saw Marc shudder and
pause on a down stroke, and Buck moaned. He got up and went to them and
pushed them over so he could lay on their lounge on his side with them.
Buck welcomed him and they started making out with each other. When Marc
got going on his second shot, he joined his tongue with one of theirs or at
times, all three tongues joined in someone's mouth. It was messy but fun.

Marc was panting by the time he finished round three, and ready for
a nap. That was just the moment when Paul and Morgan showed up arm in arm
and making goo goo noises at each other. When Paul saw his brother going
comatose, he dropped the five-pound bag of frozen shrimp he was carrying
between Marc's legs. Marc jumped, pulling out of Buck and backing away ten
feet from the lounge, staring daggers at the innocent bag of shrimp.

"It looks like you've just been shit on by a big shrimp bird.
Maybe it was trying to tell you something, do ya think?" Paul tapped his
watch for emphasis.

"Okay, okay. I get the message. I don't suppose there's any volunteers to
help?"

Morgan picked up the shrimp. "I can't do much in the kitchen, but I'll
try."

"Great. You can find some stuff for snacks, come on." Marc started
walking into the bunkhouse and said over his shoulder, "Now would you go
get the bread?" He asked Paul.

"Oh, sure. Anyone want to take a ride?" Paul asked looking at Doug and
Buck.

"Yeah," they said together, and stood up holding hands.

"Can you walk?" Doug asked Buck, half seriously.

"I guess so, but I should take a dip in the lake first."

"I guess we all could." Paul said and dove. The younger boys followed,
aiming at Paul's ripples. They surfaced together.

"How do you do that?" Paul asked Doug.

"What?"

"When you dive, you don't splash much, hardly any."

"I don't know, maybe the water likes me, or I just spend so much time just
getting in and out."

"I noticed that too. Can you teach me how to do it?" Buck asked, then had
another thought. "You know my dad hasn't gotten around to building a pool
yet. You'll have to tell him who built yours, so ours is the right length
and has lap lines and stuff."

Paul giggled, "Knowing the Trenton's only slightly, I'll bet you end up
with a fifty meter job built to AAU or Olympic specifications."

Doug laughed and nodded, "Yeah and of course indoors."

Paul expanded the thought, "Or indoor, outdoors with a folding roof."

"Those are great ideas, what else?" Buck asked eagerly, laughing as they
climbed the steps and headed to the truck.

"You'll need a gym, of course bigger than ours." Paul suggested.

"And tennis courts."

"How about a handball court?"

"You'd sure want a big steam room and sauna in the locker room, and maybe a
add in a big mirrored room filled with pillows to use as a passion pit."

They were all laughing when they got to the truck. Paul handed out shorts,
then climbed into the passenger side and moved over to make room for Buck
by the window. He giggled at Doug's confused expression. "Can you drive a
stick?" He asked.

"Nope. You know I don't have a driver's license."

"I know that, but you can start learning by driving to the gate," Paul
said, then looked down at Buck, "and if you want, you can drive from the
gate back in and down to the lake. We still need to dump the gas cans."

"Holy shit! You mean it? Wow! Do I ever!" Buck exploded. He looked
happier than he would have if Paul handed him the cash to build their
mythical multimillion-dollar field house.

Several stops and starts interrupted their trip to the gate. Some of them
intentional, as Doug got the feel of the clutch and the location of the
gears on the shift pattern. Doug was flustered at first, and kept the tip
of his tongue peeking out of the right side of his mouth, until Paul calmly
suggested that he needed to use more tongue when he let out the
clutch. Doug smiled and relaxed, then did much better.

The return trip, from inside the gate with Buck behind the wheel left the
other two boys red faced and gasping when they jumped out of the passenger
side door listening to Buck's best belly laughter. Doug barely had time to
close the door after he let Paul in to sit in the middle as close to Buck
as the console would allow, before Buck slapped the shift into first and
popped the clutch. He left just a trace of rubber on the driveway.

Buck had to down shift quickly as he approached the slightly humped bridge
over the stream, and make the sharp right turn to follow the riverside
portion of the drive at the same time all without using the brake. He
again down shifted to turn the truck left to climb the slope to the house,
but only to third. He finally used the brakes only to really slow down when
he turned off the driveway to crawl at a stately pace diagonally down
across the lawn to the lake shore and stop twenty feet from where the Jet
Skis rested.

"Thanks Paul, this big bruiser handles great, I thought it would, but I
couldn't tell from the way you drive." Buck started laughing again as he
climbed down from his seat, and cautiously peeked over the truck bed, ready
to run either way if Paul came after him around the truck.

But Paul didn't chase him, and wasn't mad, just flabbergasted that Buck
could handle his truck with such expert ease. "Where the fuck did you
learn to drive, Indianapolis? And why didn't you just tell us?"

"I didn't tell you because you'd think I was bullshitting you. I'm kind of
self-taught. I sneaked an old Corvette out of the garage one quiet Sunday
afternoon a couple of years ago, and didn't get caught for an hour. By
then I was getting pretty good. The chase was great, the guard was
shitting bricks when he finally cornered me in front of the house."

Doug giggled. "By old, I don't supposed you mean a Vet that was just worn
out, ragged out and not worth fixing?"

"Oh no, it's a 1955 in mint condition, its only a three speed, but everyone
has to start somewhere." While Buck explained, he clambered back into the
truck to retrieve the four loaves of French bread from the rear seat. "My
father collects Vets, he's got one of every year since they made them in
1953."

"Why didn't you steal a really old one?" Paul asked as they walked into the
bunkhouse.

"Because the '53 and `54's were both automatics, anyone can drive those.
Remind me to show you his collection next time you come over. He's got a
bunch of motorcycles too." Buck stopped and nudged Paul, "Look."

Paul grinned when he saw Morgan slowly moving from picture to picture along
the back wall, Paul's wall. Marc harrumphed loudly in disgust. "Some
helper he turned out to be. He hasn't done a fucking thing since you left
except look at your fucking pictures. Better keep your eye on him, unless
you want to wipe cum stains off from the big one. I'll bet that if the
other one was up there he'd poke a hole in it fucking you. In fact..." Marc
grinned and disappeared into the short hallway leading to the bathrooms.

They heard him moving things. "What's he doing?" Doug asked.

Paul giggled. "He's got a closet full of enlargements that either he
didn't like when they came back, or he doesn't have room for, and wants to
paper the field house with. There's another one like that one of me on the
rings that he took of my back ten seconds after he took the one on the
wall. He's probably digging that bad one out."

A four by seven-foot foam board mounted photo appeared from the hall and
seemed to float toward Morgan. The only part of Marc they could see was
his fingers on the edges. "Hey mother fucker," Doug hollered to get
Morgan's attention. "Which one do you like better, cock or ass?" He asked,
as he propped up the rear view alongside the front view.

Doug and Buck went to get a closer look. "What's wrong with this one? I
like it just as much as the front view." Doug shook his head, agreeing with
Buck.

"The lighting is a little off so his muscles don't stand out the way I
wanted, plus if you look close, somehow he managed to wipe all the oil off
his ass, probably from sitting down when I wasn't watching him." Marc
answered from the kitchen. "After an hour or two he started complaining
about being tired for some reason, all he was doing was hanging there."

"If you don't want it I'll take it." Morgan said, then shook his head and
frowned. "Forget that, I couldn't take it home. It's too big to hide.
I've got a little problem with my parents. They don't know about me yet."
He added morosely.

"I'll make two smaller prints if you want me to." Marc volunteered
sympathetically. "Ours don't know about us yet either. Enough looking at
pictures, the real deal is standing right here, you can get all the cum you
want on him. Now get over here and help me."

Marc was talking to Morgan but everyone pitched in to help so that five
pounds of frozen shrimp quickly became a heaping platter of scampi,
accompanied by a tossed salad and French bread slices, buttered, sprinkled
with parmesan cheese, then toasted. When their dinner was finished, so was
the scampi. They even took turns mopping up the remaining garlic butter
sauce from the platter with the last of the bread.

Doug and Buck stayed long enough to help clean up the dinner dishes, then
gas up their boats and race up the lake, anxious to be alone together since
the first time they met on the beach in front of Buck's house. Buck led
Doug to a door on the side of the house, which was also equipped with a
combination lock. He gave Doug the combination, then had him open the
door. Inside, there was a plain steel spiral staircase leading up. Buck
explained that it was actually a fire escape from his apartment that
occupied the whole second floor of that wing. Doug noticed there was a
panic bar on the ground floor door after it closed and re-locked itself
behind them.

Buck took Doug's hand before they started to climb and after they got into
the apartment rarely let go when he started to give Doug a tour. Doug was
full of questions from the beginning. The first was, "Why do you need this
whole big apartment with three bedrooms, just for yourself?"

Buck shrugged, "Why not? This house is more like a small hotel than a
home. I'm at the age when I need my privacy, like right now. I can invite
a friend to stay over night and it's no one's fucking business. Mom and
Dad want me to stick around as long as possible and I can do that even
after college as long as I have my own space. They have their own
apartment too. It's kind of like this, only without the guest rooms," Buck
giggled, "in their apartment that space is Mom's closet. Come on I'll show
you some of my toys."

Buck sat on the sofa in the living room, and pulled Doug down beside
him. "This end of the sofa is my nest." He dug down between the armrest and
seat cushion and came up with a remote wand, "and this controls everything
in this room. I'll show you how to use everything. It looks complicated
but it isn't. The red buttons are all functions and they're labeled.
Whatever you push shows up on the little LCD screen, then there's a menu of
available options." Buck put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned
back.

Doug leaned with him and put an arm over his shoulders and touched Buck's
head with his to watch while Buck demonstrated by pushing `windows'. He
scrolled the menu and selected drapes. Arrow keys opened and closed them.
Then he opened them and left them open, before switching to `blinds'. The
slats ran the gamut of being closed down to being horizontal, to being
vertical again, but in the up position. Then Buck raised them and dropped
them. Last he opened and closed the windows themselves.

Doug giggled. "Hey that's neat if you're a really lazy fucker with more
money than God."

"Man, you have that right." Buck agreed.

"This button says `computer'. Isn't this a computer? I don't see a
regular one like mine."

Buck handed the remote to Doug. "Push it and see what happens, but we
better get our feet off the table first." They both sat up and leaned
forward to watch the table.

Doug pushed the function button, and the top of the table lifted to a low
desk height, then a shelf with a keyboard and mouse slid toward them. A
whirring sound in the bookcases got Doug's attention. He looked up in time
to see a twelve foot wide section of shelves separate in the middle, with
half disappearing into the ceiling and the other half sank into the floor
to reveal the room's entire array of electronics, surrounding a five foot
wide screen. The screen came to life as a typical desk top, except in a
larger scale and with more icons than Doug cared to count. "Holy shit!
This is hard to believe."

Buck moved the remote mouse and clicked on an icon, he selected something
from a drop down menu then his fingers flew over the wireless keyboard.
The screen went blank, rather, dark, then brightened slowly, resolving into
a view of Buck's bedroom as the lighting got brighter. "As you can see I
can record anything that goes on in there, but I won't if you don't want me
to, or we can just watch ourselves on the screen in there."

"Yeah, let's do that for starters. If we like what we see us doing, we can
record it the next time." Doug blushed.

"Okay, go get on the bed, turn on the TV in there, and I'll zoom in on you
so we'll see how it looks." Buck watched Doug disappear into the bedroom,
then moved the camera lens to a cardboard box sitting at the foot of the
steps leading up to the boat bed. Doug eyed the box, but climbed on the
bed and folded his legs to sit in the middle of the bed and look around.

"I guess I'll play, where's the fucking TV hiding?" He called to Buck, and
got a giggle in response before Buck answered.

"There's a remote by the phone in the bow. Push TV to find it."

Doug moved some pillows to uncover both the phone and a remote. An
electric buzz started as soon as he keyed TV, and a screen rose up from the
stern deck, right at the foot of the bed portion. Buck zoomed in on Doug's
face as he crawled to peek around the screen, then up to the area over the
door where he imagined the video camera was concealed. "Hey, this thing is
flat, one of those new ones I've heard about," he hollered.

"Of course it's flat." Buck said from the side of the bed. He laughed when
Doug jumped in surprise.

"Mother fucker," Doug mumbled with a sheepish grin. "It's also blank. How
do you turn it on?"

Buck climbed on the bed and sat by Doug so they touched. He took the
remote. "Just push TV again like so." A menu appeared, and Buck made a
selection so they suddenly were looking at themselves watching themselves
on the screen. They took turns aping at the camera and giggling.

"Fucking rich boy's toys." Doug giggled and pulled Buck down with him and
kissed him for the first time since they got into the apartment.

Buck turned his head away so he could talk. "Don't you want to look at
your present?"

"What present? This?" Doug lifted Buck's semi-erection and stroked it
lovingly.

"No fool, but that sure feels good, hold that thought. I meant that one."
Buck tossed his thumb at the floor and the box.

Doug sat up and hugged his knees, suddenly very serious. "Damn it Bucky, I
know what it is, I can read. You can return it in the morning. I don't
want it."

Buck was shocked and hurt by Doug's unexpected reaction. "Return it?
Don't want it? But it's the sound system you showed me in the catalog this
morning. Now you can quit your silly job, and we can spend the whole
summer together. We can do anything you want, you name it. We can climb
on Dad's jet and go anywhere. It's nothing, just a little gift, I, I,
thought you'd like it," Buck finished softly with his voice breaking, close
to tears.

Doug lay back down after watching Buck on the screen fighting his tears.
"Shut that off will you? Put the news on or something," he said and
gathered Buck in his arms. "Look Bucky, I do like it, I really do, but you
don't need to pay me to be your friend. I have to work to earn some of it,
and my dad's paying the rest. Working started out as a point of honor or
pride or whatever so my dad understands that I'm willing to do it, to get
what I want. I know it's a shit job, pulling weeds and stuff, but I
discovered I like it. I like doing a good job, I'm appreciated, and they
trust me. They've all gone away and left me to do my own thing. And when
they come back, goddamn it, the whole place is going to look better than
when they left. I wouldn't quit even if I took your gift, which I'm not
taking. I had the hots for you at first when I didn't know you, now that's
changed to something else. You understand don't you?" He kissed Buck on
the cheek, hoping that he did understand because he doubted he could
explain himself any better.

Buck managed a weak smile and a hiccup. "I guess so, and thanks," Buck
returned Doug's peck on the cheek.

"Thanks?"

"For being my friend, and maybe for turning down my gift. I wasn't trying
to buy you, I'm sorry it looked that way. Can we maybe just cuddle for a
while and watch TV? I'm kind of over stuffed from dinner and over fucked
too, if you want to know the truth. That was fun while it was happening
but..." The TV news was soundlessly showing a bunch of reporters and
photographers fighting one another to get near a famous teen idol.
Uniformed guards and guys in suits were pushing to clear a path.

Doug followed Buck's eyes and giggled. "Maybe you should keep that sound
system and hook it up to your big bad flat plasma screen TV," he said,
handing the remote to Buck and rolling his eyes.

"Fuck you too Douggie."

"Make up your mind, you just said you didn't want to."

"...as he is being escorted to a waiting limousine after being charged with
fondling an undercover police officer in a public restroom. Dylan Kelly's
bond was set at fifty thousand dollars." Buck lowered the volume and
looked at Doug. "Why would any guy who looks like him grope some old guy
in a public shit house? That doesn't make sense."

Doug shook his head. "You got that right. He's a real stud, but he's so
beautiful he should have been a girl. He's been a movie star forever and
he gets like thirty million a film. That's not too shabby for being
eighteen years old. I'd get a hardon if he smiled at me, if I saw him in
person, and I might add I'd give him a year or so to stop fucking me if he
wanted to. I thought he was straight."

Buck giggled. "Hey, should I be jealous or what?

But you're right, he sure is hot. I've sucked him off a time or two in my
mind of course, even after I saw you at school," he admitted.

"Thanks a fucking bunch, at least I'm in good company." Doug honked
Buck and laughed, then buried his tongue in Buck's throat when he continued
to giggle with his mouth open.

The phone chimed, interrupting the boy's cuddling session, which
had degenerated into some serious making out, with Doug just lowering his
mouth to Buck's cock. Buck pulled himself out of Doug's hand. "Shit,
that's got to be Marc calling to rag us for taking off. They're the only
one's I gave my number to. I'll just tell him to jerk off."

Buck answered the phone laughing. He stopped after he said hello,
got very serious and turned pale, looking at Doug. He hit the speakerphone
button and hung up. The caller was Paul, "...so Dad's home, and we got
caught big time. When Dad walked in, the rabbit was fucking Morgan, and I
was sitting between their fucking legs watching, and maybe helping, I don't
remember."

"Oh shit," Doug murmured.

"Yes, shit, lot's of it. Dad just went back up to the house and
give us all a chance to calm down, him included, and us to get decent.
Morgan's so scared he looks like he's fucking dying.

I just called to warn you off. Don't come near us tomorrow. Stay there.
He doesn't know about you two anyway, so you can stay out of this shit
storm."

"Bullshit!" Buck announced with gravelly determination. "I'm
coming over, and I'll bring my father. He's had the time to adjust his
thinking about me, and he likes you two and Morgan, maybe he can calm your
dad down and get him to understand us."

"I'm in this too. I don't like sneaking around and lying to my
parents, and with Buck around now it's only going to get worse and harder.
Guys our age don't have sleepovers, or pajama parties three our four times
a week, if at all, but since I've started I don't want to stop, so they'd
figure it out before too long anyway. I'd rather get it over with now, or
as soon as they get home." Doug said slowly almost as if he was arguing
with himself.

"I guess you're right Doug, hold on I'll ask the guys."

"Don't bother, we're on our way. Just open the fucking gate for
us. Bye." Buck punched the speakerphone button to prevent further
argument, and stepped off the bed. "Come on queer boy, we've got to get
dressed for our coming out party."

The phone chimed again. "I'll get it, it's Paul again." He picked
up the phone. "What now?" He asked, suddenly thankful when he heard Paul's
voice cuss Buck for hanging up on him. "Sorry about that."

"Well goddamn it, I wasn't finished, there's more." Paul said
ominously.

"More? How the fuck can there be anymore?" Doug demanded.

"You ever hear of the actor Dylan Kelly?"

"Yeah, in fact we just saw him leaving jail on the news. He groped
an undercover cop. Why?"

"If you saw him on the news, you saw my father with him. Dad's now
his attorney. He got a call from the office, and took a chopper from East
Hampton into the city. Dad was going to drop him at his hotel, but the
press was there, so Dad brought him here to hide out for a while until this
cools off a little."

"And?" Doug prodded. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is Dad's. Dylan admitted that he's gay. Now after
catching the three of us," Paul couldn't contain a small giggle, "he's
worried about Marc and I being around him, like he might corrupt us further
somehow."

Doug didn't try to swallow his giggle. "I'm sorry, but that
thinking defies logic. What could Dylan tell any of us about that we don't
know, or for that matter tried out in the last twenty-four hours?"

"Search me, but I'm not in the position right now to argue the
point. Anyway, I just didn't want you guys to be surprised if you see
him."

"Okay, I'll tell Buck. We'll be over as soon as we find Bucky I
guess. If he doesn't want to get involved, we'll be over on our boats
alone. Bye."

Doug hollered, "Can I borrow a pair of shorts?" Then started
laughing with Buck while he went to find him.

Buck's bathroom was a bathroom, a dressing room and closet, all combined.
Mirrored sliding doors on two walls concealed hanging space and built in
rows of drawers, which explained why there was no furniture in Buck's
bedroom. The contoured sunken tub was party size with closely spaced jets
around the walls. "Wow, imagine what we can do in this." Doug whistled and
grinned.

Buck handed him a pair of shorts and grinned. "I have, we were and we're
still going to. These are nice and baggy, but in your case it doesn't
matter, you always look like you're hard anyway, but only a few of us know
the truth." He giggled while he watched Doug push he cock around inside the
material, only to have it return to pointing out and down slightly as soon
as he moved.

Doug grinned and shrugged, pushing Buck in front of him back into the
bedroom. "We better go find your dad and get going."

Buck detoured to the bed and the phone. "In this barn we let our fingers
do the walking. He's probably in his study working." Buck keyed the
speakerphone and pushed the extension. "Dad?"

"Yeah? Hi, you're home early." Bucky answered.

"You real busy? We need to see you."

"I'm never too busy for my favorite son, come on over."

"Okay." Buck disconnected.

"Over?" Doug asked.

"His study is in his apartment, the inner sanctum of Trenton Holding.
Dad's kind of an insomniac, if he's in bed, he's humping Mom, otherwise,
he's busy doing something else."

Doug told Buck about Dylan Kelly while they hiked along the hallway to the
other end of the house. Buck grinned and thought of the possibilities.
"Holy shit Douggie, this was going to be a night for just us to remember,
now the whole gang's involved, and the hot Mr. Dylan Kelly. Think he's
well hung? I hope so."

 

 

 

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