Somerset Farm 

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze

 

 Chapter 17



Dylan was sitting on the side seat with his legs
stretched out comfortably, staring, grinning and
occasionally laughing at Buck. Buck was sitting in the
middle of the back seat hedged in by Morgan and Marc.
Everyone including Will who was driving, and Joe,
riding shotgun were wearing identical baseball caps
with `CITY HIGH', the name of Dylan's new movie,
embroidered on them. Peter sat by Dylan and watched
the antics of his new friends and passing landmarks
along the street where he lived, so he could tell Will
which building to stop in front of. He wasn't entirely
sure that his parents were ready to meet them all at
one time, but he was sure that in the confusion, he'd
get permission to spend a few days in the country with
them, and that they wouldn't have time to think up too
many questions. Those would surface after he'd gone,
and he could better answer them by telephone.

Peter suddenly slipped off the seat and curled himself
under Dylan's legs. "He's here! He's waiting for me!
Did he see me?"

"Who's here? What the fuck are you doing? No one can
see in the back of this car. Are you going spastic on
us or what?" Marc playfully prodded Peter with his
foot.

Peter looked up, clearly terrified. "WALTER! Didn't
you see him in that gray Ford sedan we just passed?
That's his car."

Will slowed and everyone looked back. "Are you sure it
was him?" His question was academic. He looked at Joe.
"How do you want to play this?" He asked quietly.

Joe twisted himself in the seat, so he looked into the
back of the car. "Go around the block. Morgan, you
drive after we turn the corner, Will and I need to be
loose. Pete, we'll let you out a block back from where
he's parked. You walk or run by him, we'll see what he
does. I'll be right behind you on the sidewalk. Damn,
I wish we had a bug so we can hear what's going on."

Will's cell phone buzzed in its hands free bracket.
"We do." Buck's voice replied clearly over the radio
speakers. Will grinned into the rear view mirror as
Buck handed his phone to Morgan. "Clip it on, or put
it in your pocket."

Joe grinned, "That will work. Okay. If he's just
watching you, and lets you get by him, just get into
your building, and Morgan you park in front, but if he
gets Pete in his car, double park fifty feet back. If
he gets nasty Will can hear everything and come at him
from the driver's side and I'll be on the curbside.
Pete, sit so you can see Will coming, be ready to
unlock the back door if it isn't already when Will
distracts him. I need to be in that back seat fast."

Peter gained some confidence from listening to Joe's
plan. "He won't do anything in the car. It's still
daylight."

"No not here in the street, but he could take you to
the river, one of the old piers." Peter paled at the
thought. "Morgan will box him in after Will gets out,
so you won't be going anywhere."

Peter and Joe left the car; Morgan got behind the
wheel and Will moved into the passenger's seat a block
behind where Walter waited for Peter. Peter jogged
slowly along the sidewalk until he got a hundred feet
from the gray Ford. He carefully looked away,
increasing his pace, trying to get by before Walter
could get his attention. Walter tooted the car's horn
once, opened the passenger door and motioned Peter to
get in. Walter was wearing a bright smile.

"Hey kid! Long time no see. Get in, we need to talk."
Walter said jovially. Peter sat down with one foot on
the curb. Walter's smile disappeared. He grabbed
Peter's wrist and bent it forward with one hand. "All
the way in and close the fuckin' door," he ordered
harshly increasing the pressure on Peter's hand. He
let go after Peter slammed the door. "Where you been
hidin' all afternoon? I been waitin' on ya since noon.
You ain't been runnin' all this time," he smiled
evilly. "I know, I'll bet you were busy fuckin' that
queer actor buddy of yours haven't ya? I heard on the
news about you two bein' asshole buddies for a whole
year. Too bad you had to go and get that pretty virgin
cock of yours all shitty. Now it's no good to me
anymore, and if you tell `em anything that we been
doin' together when they come to question you about
me, then it ain't goin' to be much use to you anymore
either. You got that?"

Peter flinched, "Yes Sir," he whispered, "I
understand." He twisted his body and turned his head
to look away, into the back seat. The rear doors were
unlocked.

"I ain't so sure you do. They know the Brockway kid is
queer now, and you are too since you corroborated his
story. So now they're lookin' into my whole fuckin'
career as a cop and what they call my unhealthy
interest in boys, boys like you, queers and faggots!"

"So what the fuck are you?" Peter blurted defensively,
and realized his mistake from Walter's look of hatred,
which changed to frustration.

`You don't know nothin'. I was trying' to help ya stay
clean by keepin' ya satisfied. I did for a while, but
now that's done with. I'll leave you alone from now
on, but I'll be watchin' ya and listenin' an' if I
even think you talked," Walter grinned, "What's that
Kraut actor always sayin'? Oh," he switched to a stiff
German accent. "I'll be back." He laughed at his
cleverness. "Then it's Plan B for you. Some day, some
time, I'll be back."

Walter lifted Peter's head with a hand under his chin.
Their eyes touched. "I just know you want to know what
Plan B is, but you ain't gonna ask, so I'll tell ya.
What I do is take you to a nice quiet place, and cut
off your cock, then watch you runnin' around holdin'
yourself tryin' to stop the bleedin' lookin' for help.
Then you'll kind of fall down and squirm around for a
little while before there just ain't no blood left."

His digital laugh in the limo was maniacal. "That's
enough! Morgan move!" Will ordered and opened the car
door as Morgan punched the accelerator to the floor.
The tires squealed. The big car lurched forward.
Morgan jammed the brake pedal with equal force to
stop so Will was able to take one step out of the car,
and snuggle the barrel of his nine-millimeter semi-
automatic under Walter's ear through the open window.

Walter attempted to turn his head to look at Will,
when Joe got him in a choke hold with one arm and
mashed his thumb against the big artery in his neck
until he slumped forward unconscious. Joe let him go
and nodded up at Will. Will slammed the barrel of his
gun down on the base of Walter's skull.

Will raised his arm to hit him again. "How do you like
that? You piece of filth."

"WILL! NO!" Joe ordered as he climbed from the rear
door of Walter's car, then pulled Peter from the front
seat, guided him around the rear and pushed him into
the relative darkness of the limo's interior.

"Drive away slowly," Will instructed Morgan, "go
around the block again and stop in front of Peter's
building."

Ten minutes later, when they returned from Peter's
apartment, their laughter was forced, and everyone
managed to turn their heads at least once to look down
the block, although they were told not to. Will sat
behind the wheel again and Joe joined him in the front
after tossing Peter's bag in the trunk.

On the way to the Trenton office tower, Joe turned
back to the boys. "Lighten up guys. Nothing out of the
ordinary happened this afternoon, did it?"

Dylan was the first to giggle, being a professional
actor. "Yeah it did," he flexed the fingers of one
hand and gave Peter a poke in the ribs. "I think I
have writer's cramp from signing so many autographs
for your mother to hand out to relatives."

Peter smiled weakly, "Hand out shit, she'll probably
sell them." He shook himself and giggled. "Just
remember you aren't finished. I can't go back home
without pictures; lots of them, all signed. Poor Mom,
you had her so flustered I don't think she knows she
agreed to let me go to prep school with you guys, or
even that I'm gone to spend a few days in the country
with you. Where to now?"

Marc walked on his knees to the front seat. "Now we
are going to the Photography Super Store. If I go home
without my new outfit, my dad will snatch his card
back and I'll never get it without more begging and
pleading."

Peter looked thoroughly confused when Will opened the
car's trunk after he parked in the underground garage
and everyone took a box or plastic sack to carry to
the waiting elevator, all of the stuff Marc deemed
essential for underwater photography and recommended
by the salesman at the camera store. "Are we changing
cars? Why don't we just use this one?" He asked
innocently.

Everyone laughed. Marc handed Peter his own bag. "Wow,
you brought too much stuff, too many clothes. The
first thing you need to do is get some color on your
city boy hide. You look like a weird ghost with tanned
arms and legs. Wait until you see Doug. He's a
redhead, but blond from the sun and chlorine, he's
even got freckles on his cock." Marc raised an eyebrow
and leered, "Very sexy I might add. Buck keeps trying
to lick them off."

Buck giggled, "Yeah, but they don't come off. I'm
lucky he let's me keep trying whenever I want." He
pushed Peter to the back of the elevator.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Will someone tell me where the
fuck we're going now? Please?"

"To the roof. Where do you think you'd find a
helicopter in this fucking city? I suppose you could
park it in the basement though, ONCE!" Marc thought
his joke was funny.

"You mean you fly back and forth?" Peter was dubious.
"In a helicopter? No shit? Really?"

Buck grinned up at Peter. "Yes shit, really." He
looked at his watch and frowned. "We're a little late.
I hope he didn't leave us."

Paul frowned at Doug after he snapped his seat belt.
"You're dry. How come? No after work swim?"

Doug shrugged and pointed to the lawn. "There wasn't
time. Check out the pattern, pretty neat huh? I'll
just grab a shower after I get home, ah, to Buck's."
Doug corrected himself. "Boy I stink," he sniffed one
armpit.

"Yeah, me too. You may as well get cleaned up in the
bunkhouse with me. Remember my Mom's prime rib? That
is after we take a dip in the lake. Wear something of
Marc's." Doug nodded and stared out the window
silently, carefully looking the other way when they
passed the service drive cutoff, the closest route to
his home.

Paul and Doug were just climbing the steps from the
lake. Doug was giggling, holding Paul's arm helping
him up the steps. "Just like Buck keeps telling you;
old and slow. I told you not to challenge me."

Paul wasn't as winded as he appeared, but he couldn't
help trying to win a balls out race to the float and
back to save himself the dollar he bet Doug on their
race just to get Doug into the lake. They were halfway
to the bunkhouse when Paul looked up and grinned, "Hi
Mom! Where'd you come from?"

Doug dropped Paul's arm and used both hands to cover
himself, or try to. Elise Wilcott was holding a large
tray piled with snacks for the boys. She giggled like
Marc, "Too late Doug. There's no point in trying to
hide anything that I haven't already seen more or
less, every single day on Paul or Marc, since they
were born." She laughed at him when he turned and ran
for the lake.

Paul giggled with his mother. "You should have come
down here earlier, it cost me a dollar just to get him
swimming. Now he won't come out until you disappear."

"Oh all right, I have a few things to do anyway. I
restocked your frige down here and tried to straighten
up a bit, but that was hopeless. Dinner will be in one
hour after the helicopter lands, so don't start
anything you can't finish in an hour or you will miss
out on a beautiful roast. You're the host down here,
so warn your friends when they get here." Elise ran
out of motherly comments. She looked out at the lake
just as Doug was climbing on the float with his back
to them. She cupped her hands around her mouth and
shouted, "YOU HAVE A CUTE BUTT TOO!"

"Too? MOM! Damn, first I couldn't get him in the water
now he definitely won't come out."

Elise giggled, "Of course he will, he won't miss a
dinner." She had one more comment. "I WILL expect
everyone to be wearing clothes, including a shirt, at
the table. Remind your brother please."

Paul gave up, "Yes ma'am."

The boys sat surrounding one table, the one with the
tray of snacks on it. Paul and Doug were dressed when
the others arrived, so they stayed dressed as well.
Two conversations went on concurrently. Marc unboxed
and half assembled, not one, but two underwater camera
outfits. One housed a video camera; the second would
accept most still cameras. Buck sat between Doug and
Paul and described in embellished detail how Joe and
Will took care of Walter Whatshisname (Polish and
unpronounceable.), the detective who was bothering
Peter. Buck looked around the table to ask Will how he
knew exactly how hard to bonk someone on the back of
the head without killing them. Will and Joe were
standing on the edge of the terrace near the corner of
the bunkhouse talking together quietly.

Buck frowned, "Damn them, they never know when to
quit." He got up and pulled two additional chairs into
the circle, then went over to them and grabbed each of
them by an arm. "Come on guys give it a rest. You can
guard us better if you're closer. Besides, we have
questions, and you two goons have answers."

"Goons? Did I hear the word goon?" Will asked, nodding
at Joe. They picked Buck up by his arms and carried
him with his feet dangling.

Joe laughed. "I believe you did partner. The
perpetrator now in custody, also wants to know about
the fine art of bonking. I believe a demonstration is
in order don't you?"

"I do indeed, but his crime is in talking too much
about something that never happened." Will lifted Buck
by his elbows so they looked each other in the eyes.
"Did it Buck?"

Buck instantly started to cry. Huge tears ran down his
cheeks. He started to struggle. "I forgot! Please
don't bonk me! Please!" He begged pitifully.

Everyone at the table grinned except Doug and Paul.
They stood up and started to rescue Buck, astounded by
how frightened he was of Will so suddenly.

Dylan stopped them with a burst of laughter. "There he
goes again! Damn I wish I could do that as easily as
he does."

Buck suddenly switched to giggles. "Instead of a
bonking, how about a nice blow job? It's been a long
day." Will laughed, nodded and dropped him.

Dylan explained to Paul and Doug. "He did that this
afternoon when I introduced him to Norman the director
and the producers. He even got down on his knees and
wrapped his arms around Norm's legs."

"Huh?" Doug and Paul asked together, looking from Buck
to Dylan and back.

Dylan nodded. "Yup, he was begging for one of these
baseball caps. You'll notice he's wearing one. The
little fucker bawled his way from a bit part, into a
supporting part in the goddamn movie! I still can't
believe it. This is one film that's going to be fun."

Doug blinked and grinned, "He did?" He turned to Buck,
"You did? Really?"

"Yup, I sure did. I'm going be a STAR!" Buck jumped
into Doug's lap and grinned at Dylan. "You're just
jealous, but don't worry, I'll get you a part in my
next picture after I get my Academy award for this
one."

"That's a deal!" Dylan agreed.

"How come you didn't answer your phone all day?" Buck
whispered. "I left you voice mails. Did you listen to
them?"

Doug shrugged and looked away guiltily. "I was busy,
sorry about that."

"You dope. One of them was important. Dad's been busy
too. He got us the room we wanted. Isn't that great?
It's on the second floor on the end near the parking
lot, so it's private and convenient."

"Yeah, great." Doug sighed and stared at nothing.

"And," Buck continued as if everything was normal in
their lives, "he also got you and Peter registered,
although he had them leave the name line blank for
Peter because he didn't know if we could even find him
this morning."

Doug blinked and his eyes widened as he moved them to
Buck's, and lifted one of Buck's hands from his
crotch. "Cut that out, it's almost dinner time. He
registered me? Really?" Doug smiled.

Buck was delighted that Doug didn't instantly refuse.
"Of course, why wouldn't he, you are my temporary big
brother aren't you? Kind of, anyway."

"Holy shit, I guess so. I know he said so this
morning, but I thought..."

"I know what you thought," Buck interrupted. "That he
was just stroking you to make you feel better. You
don't know him yet. He doesn't just talk. He means
what he says. There's more, even better. Want to hear
it?" he teased.

Doug nodded, "I guess I should have answered the
fucking phone, huh? What else?"

"Well Dad also found us a pool to use all summer
whenever we want. It's only twenty-five meters and
it's indoors, so no sun. Bummer, but it's ours."
Buck's tongue darted out to the tip of Doug's nose.

Doug's agreed. "As soon as possible after dinner. Now
where is this fucking pool?"

Buck giggled, "The Oaks pool. They use it for
recreational swimming during summer school, but now
those stupid asses have been evicted. They should be
studying anyway. We can fly if the chopper's here, or
the guys can drive us." Buck made a face. "After you
get done doing your thing at work. Are you sure you
can't just quit that? You know you don't need the
money anymore."

Doug smiled and shook his head. "No, I don't, but I
can't just quit. I started it and I'm going to finish
it."

"Okay, okay, I was just asking." Buck grinned, "I
don't suppose crying would change your mind?"

"Nope, not now, since I know you can turn it on and
off at will." Doug giggled and glanced at his watch.
"Hey guys if we don't get up to the house, we don't
eat."

Paul jumped to his feet. "Holy shit! Doug's right.
Let's move out."

Elise joined two large rectangular tables after she
counted heads, so everyone could sit together. Then
when she looked at her list of guests she decided it
would be prudent to cook an additional roast as well.


The boys, with her sons in the vanguard invaded the
terrace. Will and Joe veered off from the group, and
started walking toward the front of the house. They
were almost out of sight when she called them back and
invited them to take their places at the table. They
declined at first, until Bucky raised an eyebrow and
pointed at their adjacent places.

After the general hubbub of conversation started Joe
whispered to Bucky, "Sorry, it's hard to figure out
whether we're friends or employees sometimes."

Bucky nodded, "I understand. Perhaps you could think
of yourselves as guarding friends?"

Buck maneuvered Doug so he sat between he and his
father. Doug leaned toward Buck. "I just wanted to
thank you for paying my tuition and board already.
I'll pay you back sometime if it takes forever. Oh,
and for getting us the room and renting the pool for
me too."

Bucky managed to look surprised. "I wanted to reserve
the room you guys wanted, so I called your father to
tell him I was sending them a check for everyone. He
sent me a check by courier for your share, so I guess
you should be thanking him."

"He did? For board too?"

"Yes, board too."

"Did he say anything? I mean about me or anything?"

"He wanted to know how you were doing. I told him I'd
seen you when you were happier of course, but that you
were fine otherwise, and off to work at your job. He
also wanted to know where you were swimming. I must
admit I hadn't thought about that before. I said I
guessed the lake or where you work. He wasn't happy
about that." Bucky squeezed Doug's arm. "I told you
he'd adjust. We'll talk more about this when we get
home. Oh, about renting the Oaks' pool, that was
selfish of me. I did that for you AND Buck."

Bucky leaned into Doug's ear so his son couldn't hear
him. "I've never seen Buck so eager and interested in
anything for so long as he is in competitive swimming.
You've done that for him. You're a great coach. Of
course he likes, or loves you. You've managed to dig
him out of his shell in just a few days. I don't want
him unhappy, so that's the selfish part. I'd like you
to continue coaching him. He's far too intelligent for
his own good and until you came along, his attention
span was about as long as the life span of a slow
mosquito." Bucky slapped an imaginary mosquito on his
arm.

Doug giggled, "That long huh? And thanks for saying
that about coaching. I really enjoy giving him tips
and stuff that I learned. He's swimming faster
already."

Marc elbowed Peter. "How come you're so quiet Pete?
You haven't said shit since we landed. What do you
think of Doug?"

Peter shrugged and looked around. "I guess I'm
suffering from sensory overload or something like
that. I like Doug, he's neat. Is he like me? I mean he
has a job and all. I'd be working summers too if I
could find a job in the city." Peter hesitated, "But
I'm not sure he likes me, he hasn't said much either.
Maybe somehow he knows that Buck and I, well got
together this afternoon."

Marc burst into a belly laugh and slapped Peter on the
back. "Man you're too much. Why would he care about a
couple of stupid blow jobs?" A few seconds passed
before Marc realized that all table conversations died
in mid-sentence.

"MARCUS WILCOTT!" Elise screeched.

"OOPS!" Marc reddened, "I guess everyone heard that
huh?" Then he went on the defensive. "Why is it that
when I have important stuff to say no one listens to
me, but when I try to have a private conversation
everyone listens to every little word?"

"I think blow job is two words." Buck corrected Marc
before he and all the guys started laughing, except
Peter, he just slid down in his chair until his eyes
were level with his dinner, and all the blood in his
body rushed to his forehead.

"Well what was I supposed to call it? A couple of
fellatios?" Marc asked weakly.

"MARC! ENOUGH!" John barked, while he attempted to
hide his grin with his hand.

"How about mutual fellatio?" The ever-helpful Buck
suggested, garnering another burst of laughter for his
grammatical effort.

"I think the topic is exhausted don't you?" Bucky
asked quietly.

`Yes Dad, sorry." Buck leaned his head on Doug's
shoulder. "That's what we did. Pete's good for a
beginner." His gravelly whisper carried as if he'd
shouted the words.

Paul shook his head while he laughed. "Deeper and
deeper," he managed to mumble.

Buck had to have the last word on the subject of sex.
"Maybe tonight, there wasn't time this afternoon."

Doug elbowed Buck. "Best you cool it," he whispered.
"Your father is starting to look dangerous."

The innuendoes, giggles, elbows and roaming hands
under the table continued throughout dinner until
there was nothing left to eat. Elise excused the
`children' to go down to the bunkhouse and `play'
while the `adults' enjoyed their coffee in peace.
Those simple words hurt more than any beating. She did
not have to excuse them a second time.

Buck frowned up at Marc after they reached the
bunkhouse terrace. "How could you be so uncouth?" He
asked. "Saying blow job at the dinner table. That was
wrong, so very wrong. You didn't even see us doing
anything," he grinned, looked up at Peter and started
to giggle, "Actually Pete fucked me in the mouth, so
you should have said oral intercourse!"

Buck dodged behind Will and Joe for protection when he
saw Marc coming for him. They stepped away from each
other giving Marc a clear path. Marc wrapped his arms
around Buck's waist and just kept going until they hit
the water, ten feet from the steps. They surfaced
laughing and invited everyone else to join them while
they took off their wet clothes and tossed them back
on the terrace. Paul stripped quickly. Doug looked
back to the house to be sure the bunkhouse blocked any
view of the terrace, before his shorts and shirt
joined Paul's. Morgan and Dylan followed them into the
lake, leaving Peter alone with Joe and Will.

"Come on and join us Pete! You guys too!" Marc waved.

"I guess I better not." Peter answered hesitantly,
while he looked all around at his surroundings as if
someone might be hiding in the bushes watching him or
them.

Will shook his head. "I'm hooking up a receiver and
monitor so the Wilcott's can watch their gates, but
Joe can if he wants to." While Will was planning to
install the electronics, he needed to talk to Bucky
privately and seriously.

"Wait a minute," Buck called to Will, "before you go,
strip the new guy and toss him in here."

Peter grinned and crouched down defensively. He knew
he was about to get naked and wet but he wasn't going
easily. "You two goons better be careful, I don't want
to hurt you but I will. These hands are registered
and."

Will took Peter high and Joe, low. They had him naked
and in the air flying into the lake before he could
finish his sentence. He surfaced laughing, pleased
that he was going to be treated or mistreated within
the group, just like everyone else.

"Hey, let's race the skis," Doug suggested, counting
heads. He watched Joe dive. "There's eight of us, we
can ride tandem, we haven't tried that yet."

"Yeah!" Buck looked at the two skis on Wilcott's
beach, then around to see who was closest. Joe was in
hot pursuit of Marc for honking him, and Paul and
Morgan were swimming peacefully to the float. "Come on
guys, we have to go over to my place to get the other
two skis."

When they had the Wilcott's boats floating and
pointing into the lake, Dylan looked down at Peter's
cock and grinned. I'll drive, you just hold on to me
really tight until we can't see the house, then we'll
think up something different."

Peter nodded when he saw Dylan stiffen as he straddled
the front seat depression. "Wow, good thing we have
our backs to them let's get out of here fast," he
carefully pulled his hard on up against his gut, then
fitted his body against Dylan's back, and groaned when
Dylan wiggled back into him further after he got the
jet ski started and underway.

Buck and Doug watched their jet skis' rooster tail
grow in height as it increased speed. Buck raised his
eyebrow and grinned up at Doug. "Hmm, that Dylan is
kind of a spur of the moment innovative type for an
old guy. I didn't know he had it in him. Are you
thinking what I'm thinking?"

As they watched the little boat fly up the lake, the
rooster tail suddenly stopped. "He didn't when they
took off, but I think Peter's is now. Do you want to
steer? If you do, you better get at doing it before we
become visible from the terrace."

Buck triggered the throttle to full power while they
were still barely afloat. The resulting jet shot muddy
water up on the lawn. Doug nearly fell over backward
off the stern when they lurched forward suddenly. He
leaned into Buck, wrapped his arms around Buck's body
and grabbed his hard cock with both hands.

"Oh wow!" Buck shouted into the wind, "Why didn't we
think of this earlier?"

Doug laughed maniacally, "Give us a break! We were
younger then!" He shouted in Buck's ear.

Buck cut the power to idle so they drifted even with
Dylan and Peter. Their boats' engine was off. Dylan
was leaning forward over the handle bar and more or
less stretched out with his gut pressed into the hump
between the two saddle seat depressions. His legs were
stretched and spread, so his toes touched water. His
position looked to the boys, like it was as
uncomfortable as it was precarious. Peter was standing
on his knees; still also straddling the seat and
humping Dylan's neatly presented ass as
enthusiastically as any first timer would. The jet ski
rocked fore and aft rythmically as he plunged and
withdrew himself.

"Goddamn," Buck laughed, "less than ten minutes ago
you were worried about someone hiding in the woods
peeking at you naked, and here you are fucking up a
storm in the middle of the lake with an international
movie star."

Peter panted and grinned, "Can't help it. I told Dylan
I was going to pop, and he suggested this." His answer
was punctuated with deep breaths through his mouth.

"How can you talk while you fuck?" Doug asked.

Peter shook his head and slowed his stroke, "I didn't
know I wasn't supposed to. Is there a rule?"

Dylan lifted his head and turned it to frown.
"Do.you.mind?" He grunted.

"Not at all." Buck giggled. "We're going to give it a
try too, but with the boat moving," he twisted his
neck to look back at Doug. "Aren't we?" He asked.

Doug's tongue flashed out and stabbed Buck's ear. He
leaned back and stretched his legs out forward and
held his cock upright while Buck got his feet under
him and stood up briefly. Buck's cock was also rock
hard and strong enough to settle itself perfectly
perpendicular to his slight muscular body before he
stepped back and squatted to impale himself on Doug.
Doug sighed when Buck wiggled to get comfortable with
all of his one hundred-ten pound body on Doug's lap.
Doug sat up and wrapped his arms around Buck's body to
reclaim his cock. Buck leaned forward and grabbed the
handle bar squeezing the accelerator as he closed his
hand. Their jet ski whined, and the bow lifted as the
stern sank to bite water. Their little boat shot
forward, leaving Dylan and Peter behind.

They made large irregular circles for a few minutes
before Doug shouted in Buck's ear, "Had enough yet? I
can't move at all and you can't either, enough to
count. Let's hit the beach by the rock and get
finished there." Buck nodded his agreement and turned
the boat toward the rock. He kept the throttle wide
open all the way, until Doug was certain they'd end
their lives fifty feet into the woods, halfway up a
tree. But Buck yanked the kill switch lanyard twenty
feet from shore and the following wake washed over
them while it pushed them forward to nudge the weeds
apart when the bow touched land.

Buck carefully separated from Doug, then took his hand
to lead him to the exact spot where they made love
together the first time. The grass was still flattened
there to form a roughly elongated nest, the shape of
Buck's body. They moved with economy. Buck lay on his
back and lifted his legs. Doug knelt, sat on his heels
briefly to admire Buck's petite hard body before he
leaned forward and lifted his ass higher but pushing
at the back of Buck's knees. Buck reached down with
one hand and stroked Doug a few times to milk more
precum from him, then pulled Doug in until Doug's
engorged head barely touched his relaxed opening. Doug
lowered himself until his brief patch of pubic hair
disappeared between them.

Then, knowing what Buck liked, instead of beginning to
thrust for his pleasure alone, he again adjusted his
legs so he knelt and pulled Buck up and back as he
moved so Buck rested with his back on the incline
formed by Doug's powerful swimmer's thighs. His long
fingers held Buck's cock up ready to be gobbled into
his open mouth. Doug nursed it slowly to maximize
Buck's enjoyment. Buck signed when he was ready, by
lifting himself slightly, then Doug clamped his lips
around Buck's cock head and sucked greedily, happily
meeting each spurt of cum with his tongue and
playfully directing it to various areas of his mouth.

They both heard the second boat idling nearby, but
ignored the arrival of Dylan and Peter. Buck sighed
when he was finished and pulled Doug's head up to his.
Doug's body followed until he was again stretched out
with his weight on the back of Buck's thighs. They
kissed with a new intensity which both realized was
unusual in their young relationship. Buck locked his
ankles around Doug's waist as Doug reared up,
straight-arming the turf, bending his torso backward
at an impossible angle to thrust himself into Buck
deeper than he'd ever been before. He filled his lungs
with air and every muscle on his long body became
boldly visible until he resembled a slender gymnast
completing a dramatic floor exercise perfectly.

Doug became aware of his surroundings when the sounds
of clapping and cheering penetrated his befuddled
brain. Someone, Dylan, no Peter, no both of them
slapped him on the back and ass, congratulating him on
the excellence of his world class sexual performance.

Forty-five minutes later, the boys beached the four
jet skis on the edge of Wilcott's lawn. The four other
would be race contestants greeted them with the
irrepressible Marc in the lead. His grin betrayed his
knowledge of where they'd been for over an hour and a
half, or what he assumed they were doing for such a
long time. "Goddamn, I could have dragged one of these
boats overland in the length of time it took you four
fucks to drive them back." He looked at Doug and Buck.
"You were fucking our new roommate weren't you?
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe I called
firsties this afternoon." He frowned at Buck, "And
you, you little semantics expert, beat me out there
with your oral intercourse lesson."

"Now just hold on a minute," Peter said, stepping
between Buck and Marc, just as Buck opened his mouth
to defend himself. "I thought I could decide who,
where, when and how, and especially which of you I do
it with," he grinned at Marc, "well I decided. I
decided on you this afternoon. Tonight, if you can
find the time. Here, if that's all right, and after
just watching Buck and Doug, I'll explain how when
we're alone."

Marc giggled and threw an arm over Peter's shoulders.
"Well all righty then!" he looked back at Buck and
Doug and winked before he steered Peter to the
bunkhouse. "How about some extended foreplay before
bed time?" The screen door banged behind them while
Peter was nodding enthusiastically.

"It's too late to do much racing now." Will said,
while he rested his forearm on Joe's shoulder. Will
was still dressed and Joe had redressed. "Bucky gave
us the night off if you guys don't plan to go anywhere
other than home to bed, or here if you want. He lent
us the chopper to go into the city to party a little.
We'll catch up with you again at breakfast I guess."
Both young men waved casually and started walking up
the slope.

George was waiting for them on the rooftop heli-pad
when they landed. He shook their hands before he
handed Will a paper sack and a scrap of paper. "He's
busy getting drunk in that bar right now, not far from
where Peter Andrews lives. He circled that block a
dozen times since this afternoon. You were right I
guess. He isn't finished with the kid. I had his
apartment tossed. They found a couple of Polaroid's of
Andrews, just naked and looking scared. There were
others, but those kids aren't our problem, so they
were left behind."

George reached into his inner jacket pocket and handed
Joe two long thin cigar tubes. "Two?" Joe grinned.
"Think I'm going to miss?" George shrugged. Joe
slipped both tubes into his shorts' pocket.

"There's an old blue Chevy sedan waiting for you on
the first parking level, here's the keys. The car was
resurrected from a junkyard. The plates and
registration match the car. We added enough drug
residue in the trunk so when it's found, it will look
like it was used to haul a load that got in
successfully. Oh, the engine and transmission are new
so you have the speed to move out if you need it."
George grinned at them. "Anything else?"

Will looked at Joe and shook his head. "Nope. We'll
call you tomorrow. Later." They waved and headed for
the stairs down to the elevator.

"Wave off the team there now. They'll think it's an
early shift change." George called after them.

"Goddamn all cherry Slurpies. Remind me to tell George
next time, any flavor but cherry." Will bitched. They
were leaning against a building wall thirty feet away
from the tavern entrance. Will stirred his drink
irritably with his straw.

Joe held his drink in one hand and what looked like a
typical red Slurpie straw in the other. He sniffed the
melting ooze on the lid. "Here this is root beer, you
big baby." They traded drinks, but not straws.

An hour later, Will's cup was empty and Joe's was
untouched. Walter lurched from the bar to the
sidewalk. He turned and gave the finger to someone
inside. "I am not drunk, you faggot queer! I'm a
fuckin' cop, you can't throw me out of no place!" He
grinned suddenly and switched to his sorry German
accent, "I'll be back!" He laughed, "You hear me you
cock sucker? I'll be back." He giggled and started
talking to himself while he walked unsteadily down the
sidewalk passing Joe and Will without looking at them.
His car was a hundred feet further down the block.

Will and Joe fell in step ten feet behind Walter. Will
took Joe's untouched drink from his hand and tossed
both cups in a trashcan. Joe brought the Slurpie
straw, which he held wrapped in his fist, up to his
lips. They walked faster until they were three feet
behind Walter. Joe aimed his straw at the back of
Walter's head and emptied his lungs through it.

Walter slapped the back of his head then ran his
fingers through his hair, driving the tiny glass dart
in his scalp further first, then crushing it and
brushing most of the minuscule glass shards away.
"Fuckin' bugs," he mumbled.

Joe and Will separated and walked passed Walter.
"Fuckin' drunks," Will mumbled. When they got near the
old Chevy he asked Joe, "How long?"

"About twelve hours, give or take."

Will looked at his watch. It was five minutes after
eleven. At eleven-thirty the next morning, Walter sat
uncomfortably on a toilet in the precinct men's room.
He was soaked with sweat and felt like shit. I knew he
shouldn't have switched to beer after he got home the
previous evening, but he was pissed off at being
flagged at the bar, then more so when he couldn't find
the Polaroid pictures he'd forced Peter to pose for.
Suddenly, he felt a massive pain in his chest. The
image of Peter's beautiful hard cock faded to
blackness. He fell forward, lay on his side and hugged
his knees convulsively. His sphincter and his bladder
relaxed simultaneously.

Joe knocked on Bucky's study door and opened it. "We
just stopped in to say good night Sir."

Bucky smiled and nodded. "Everything go as planned?"

"Yes Sir, a piece of cake. Is Bucky here?"

"Yup, in for the night with Doug. Well good night
then. I'll see you at breakfast, and of course thank
you both for your help."

Joe nodded and pulled the door closed.

 

 

 

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