The Wilcott field house was a beehive of activity by six o'clock in the morning. The boys had been there since five-thirty. The only grumbles Paul got when he woke the others at five were from Marc. He complained in a sleepy voice, snuggled against Dylan with his head on Dylan's chest that his cock was broken, his nuts were drained and shriveled to the size of raisins and that he'd just completed an uninterrupted eight hour workout with Dylan as a slave driving coach.
Dylan just grinned at Paul, looking relaxed and satisfied. "I told him it had been a long time," he explained, "and at first he just never stopped. Then when he was wearing down, I was just getting into it. Watch this," Dylan reached down, found Marc's cock and draped it gently over his thigh, then just drummed on it lightly with his finger tips.
Even Marc giggled as they watched it swell and lengthen. "Well all righty then, once more if you want to. It's a tough job but someone's got to do it," he said as he started to separate Dylan's legs with a knee.
"I always want to, but I thought you wanted to be my official photographer?" Dylan asked.
"Oh yeah! I forgot." Marc pushed himself to his knees, then stood up on the bed and pulled Dylan up by one arm. "Come on, let's get a quick shower, we can fuck later. Right now I need to get you all nice and movie star bright and pretty." He stopped half way to the bathroom and squinted at Dylan eyes.
"What?" Dylan asked.
Marc reached up and tugged at one of Dylan's eyelashes. "Ouch! What the fuck are you doing? Let go!"
Marc giggled. "Just making sure they were real, they're so long."
"Fuck you too!" Dylan laughed.
"Anytime, just say the word. You don't always have to be on the bottom you know, I like it too."
When they were in the shower, Marc looked at the showerhead and screamed, "BUCKMINSTER! Get in here!"
Everyone came running. "What's wrong?" Buck asked looking puzzled. He and Doug were dripping, they were both rock hard and Doug was red faced and frowning at being interrupted in mid-fuck. Paul and Morgan also sported matching erections.
"What kind of a dump are you running here?" Marc demanded with a mostly straight face. "There's no hose! How can we get really clean without a hose?"
Buck managed to look insulted. "Jesus H. Christ! When have I had time? Say, where'd you get yours anyway?"
"Home Depot." Marc answered, then looked at Dylan, "I guess we'll just have to rough it here, then shower for real again when we get back home." He smiled studying the four hard bodies, cocks and frowning faces staring back at he and Dylan. "Oh well," his smile turned lecherous, "say since you're all here, why not stay and rough it with us?"
Dylan pushed Marc aside. "I was thinking the same thing, and since I'm new to the group." he didn't bother to finish his sentence with words. He pulled Buck and Doug under the spray with him and knelt in front of Doug, then looked back and up at Buck, wiggling his butt. "Well?" He asked and took Doug's cock in his mouth until he was kissing red pubic hair.
"Oh wow!" Buck mumbled walking on his knees and guiding himself. He looked up at Doug who was smiling back at him already pumping himself frantically, trying to match the speed of Dylan's bobbing head. "I don't believe this is happening. Fantasies do come true." He managed just before he leaned forward, then wrapped his arms around Dylan's body, and rested the side of his head between Dylan's shoulder blades to begin some serious pumping of his own.
Paul remained standing and started making out with Doug and humping his side, while Morgan sat down at Dylan's side and used his eyes and both hands to explore his union with Buck and jerk him off. Marc, not to be left out, knelt behind Buck, entered him, then just allowed Buck to do most of the work while he enjoyed the unique position of watching everyone else.
Doug came first because he was almost there with Buck in their shower, when Marc started hollering his head off. His body was still shivering when Paul pushed him aside to replace him in Dylan's mouth. Dylan tensed as he was about to gobble Paul, and Morgan butted him upright with his head long enough to get his mouth on him while he came. Paul pulled Dylan forward while Morgan was still sucking, and twisted his neck painfully because he refused to let go and waste a single drop of movie star cum.
Just after Dylan got Paul in his mouth Buck reared up, grabbed Dylan's hips, and drove his cock home as far as he could get it. Dylan winced and grunted in surprise accidentally baring his teeth. Paul howled and was about to push Dylan away when he felt Dylan recover and open his mouth wider, cover his teeth again with his lips, and resume sucking.
Buck was still pumping cum when Marc put his arms around him and dragged him backward by walking on his knees out of the shower and Morgan's way. Morgan replaced Buck before Dylan's sphincter had time to close, while Marc bent Buck forward and got himself off outside the shower. Both enjoyed watching from a distance.
Everyone was finished in five minutes and took turns drying each other after each took a turn at inspecting the red tooth marks at the root of Paul's cock. Dylan couldn't stop smiling as he apologized repeatedly for his lapse and pointed to the size of Buck's half wilted cock and the unexpected forcefulness of its owner as the reason.
"Hey, don't blame me or mine," Buck giggled, pleased with the praise of his endowment. "If I recall, you started it by raping me."
Dylan bent over laughing. "Is that what he meant last night when he said you raped him?" He asked Paul.
"Yup, that's about it. Only when I raped him it was pitch black in the middle of the night and he sat on me. I thought it was Marc or Doug until he started with that gravelly giggle of his."
As soon as Morgan parked the Trenton limo in front of the field house, Marc went to collect his cameras and sufficient film to last an amateur a year. When he finally reappeared, Paul, Doug and Buck were warming up by doing stretching exercises. Morgan and Dylan were halfheartedly taking turns trying out some of the equipment after Dylan attempted to figure how it was supposed to be used, before Morgan showed him so he wouldn't hurt himself.
They all stopped what they were doing and gawked at Marc, then started pointing at him and laughing their asses off. He stood before them looking like the original Japanese tourist. He had three cameras hanging around his neck and another, mounted on a tripod balanced over one shoulder. His other hand was occupied with trying to keep the shoulder strap of a small steamer trunk size equipment bag up where it belonged on his other shoulder. His shorts also disappeared while he was gone.
Paul, Doug and Buck were wearing jocks. Buck's was dark green. Morgan and Dylan stayed naked after they all dropped their shorts in the locker room. Morgan was darkly tanned upward from three inches above his navel and two inches above his knees to his feet. The skin in between was a definite pink from the sun he got the previous afternoon.
Dylan sported only vague narrow lines up from the crack of his ass and around his hips, that is, where his hips would be if he had any. He explained that he wore a thong mostly when he was home and outside near the pool. The reason was that he could never be sure that some ambitious photographer wouldn't risk scaling the cliff overlooking Malibou Beach, where he built his sprawling ultra modern bachelor pad. Or one of them climb the eight foot wall on the road front side of the property, or just rent a helicopter and descend on him. He told the boys that all of the above had occurred when he was known to be home and the frequency of the method was dependent on the degree of difficulty. The cliff offered the most protection, the sky the least. The wall was an in between thing only because a guard service patrolled the road.
Dylan was five-seven, but always appeared to be taller in his movies. His body was neither that of an athlete specializing in some sport or that of a skinny wimp. He stayed fit through aerobics and adjusted his body's appearance to suit the part he was to play in his next picture using diet; eating properly, over eating or adhering to a strict diet, and exercising or not.
After Marc arrived, they quickly adjusted to having a camera pointed at them when they weren't looking at him. Dylan told Marc that none of the photos he was taking of him or them were of any value, except personally or to a tabloid, but if he was really interested in selling his stuff as legitimate by a professional photographer, then everyone would have to at least wear shorts. Marc nodded, turned into a drill sergeant and ordered them to march back into the locker room to find shorts of his or Paul's that would mostly fit before they resumed their workouts. (To Marc, tight was synonymous with fit.)
John Wilcott walked in carrying a cup of coffee after knocking repeatedly, until Marc shouted at him to come in. He found Dylan and Morgan sitting like Indians on the edge of the big mat watching Paul perfect his tumbling routine, while Buck and Doug were circulating through the exercise apparatus. Marc was the only one naked. He lay on his belly on the floor on the far side of the mat, opposite Dylan and Morgan with one of his cameras aimed at Dylan.
"Hi Mr. Wilcott." Doug and Buck said in unison, then giggled.
"Good morning, and please call me John. I knocked because I didn't want to ah," he reddened, "interrupt anything, but I see I needn't have worried. Everyone's even wearing shorts, except him," John said pointing his chin in Marc's direction.
Marc sat up and grinned at his father. "Come on Dad, give us a break. We aren't sex fiends. Who could think about sex before breakfast?" He asked innocently, then changed the subject so the others could stop giggling behind their hands. "Hey guess what? I'm going professional. I'm now the famous Dylan Brockway's personal photographer. He says I can sell a photo layout of him just working out for maybe a hundred grand, or maybe more!" He frowned at Dylan, "That is I could if he would get off his ass and make like he was working out!" He screamed so it echoed around the cavernous room.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dylan answered Marc's hint and laughed. "I'll get going after Paul finishes this. You know no one can really appreciate how beautiful these moves are or how much strength this shit takes from watching it on television. Paul just makes it look so damn easy. He's awesome."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Marc countered, unimpressed; "I've watched him doing this simple shit for years. If you want to see a real show come around just before a meet when he gets serious, THEN he's awesome. Meanwhile, you're sitting there with your thumb up your ass costing me serious money. Now get off your ass and start doing something!" He shouted.
John walked over to tower above Marc as Paul started a complicated diagonal concluding run that ended with a split so he was facing them. Marc managed three frames as he landed. "Excellent!" John congratulated Paul, then looked down at Marc. "Those might be a fantastic series, and since he's actually wearing shorts for a change, you might be able to sell those to a magazine too."
Dylan joined them and heard John's comment. "Hey yeah, it would be really good PR too, if he's going to all the national and international meets this winter, then the Olympic tryouts in the spring. Advance publicity can't hurt him."
Marc scoffed. "No one would buy just pictures, not a national magazine, there'd have to be an article to go with them."
"I'd like to try writing that if you want." Dylan enthusiastically volunteered. I like to write. I've written a screen play," he frowned, "of course it will never get made, but writing is something I can do, like a hobby, wherever I am. Could I try?" He asked hopefully, looking up at John from where he sat on the mat a few feet from Marc.
Marc's camera fired a dozen times before Dylan looked at Marc, nodding, willing Marc to give him permission. "Holy shit!" Marc exclaimed with a giggle. "Anyone of those, wow fantastic! No wonder you're a star, I can't take a bad shot of you. Sure, you can write something if you can figure out what to write about him besides his name and the few big meets he's gone to and won."
Paul had stretched out where he landed; lying on his side with his head propped up with an arm. He was soaked with sweat. "Yeah," he giggled tiredly, "there's two or three sentences out of the way."
Dylan shook his head and smiled. "I need some angles, being unknown is one of them, and that also makes you a dark horse in the race. That's another." He snapped his fingers, "I can use your name, you know like the son of John Wilcott, that's another angle."
"Yeah right," Marc giggled, "poor little rich boy with his own private field house struggles in the face of adversity to gain national recognition in the field of men's gymnastics, blah, blah, blah." Marc started laughing. "You may as well also mention that he's too fucking big while you're at it."
"Too big?" Dylan asked.
Paul explained his height, weight, to strength ratio problem, and compared himself to women gymnasts, "Have you ever seen a cow on a balance beam?" Then answered his question, "They're all tiny, they have to be. It's the same with men. I tower over everyone else."
"So there's the real angle. Your size makes you a long shot." Dylan frowned. "Damn I wish I had my lap top. I could start right now."
"I have one." Buck offered as he and Doug joined the group sitting around John on the mat. "It's for school, but I don't use it much."
Paul giggled, "You mean you don't need it much since you have one in your head."
Buck turned scarlet. "Big mouth. I told you that was a secret."
"No, you told Doug, not me." Paul corrected. "Little Buckminster here has a photographic memory," he explained to the others since they were looking puzzled.
Buck pointed both middle fingers at Paul. "Blabber mouth."
John looked at each of the boys surrounding him and shook his head in amazement. "It's hard to believe how much potential and talent each of you possesses. You'll all go far as individuals after your schooling and if you manage to stay friends, as a team I think you'd be unstoppable at any venture." He looked at his watch. "Whose turn is it to cook today? Bucky is coming over for breakfast, then we're flying out to the Hampton's, stay over night, and we'll be back tomorrow morning," he looked at his sons, "with your mother. We're invited to a barbecue tomorrow, but I guess you know about that."
Doug started to squirm the moment John mentioned cooking. Marc looked at him and grinned. "I'm hungry too and it's Doug's turn."
Buck whispered, "You better just tell them the truth."
Doug looked up and shrugged, "There's one little problem I forgot to mention about me cooking. I can't."
"Can't?" John asked.
"Nope, nothing unless you like Pop Tarts and water boiled in a microwave."
"What?" Doug asked, not believing his ears. "Nothing? That's all?"
Doug looked at Paul for support. "You've met my mother. Do you think she'd ever let me cook anything?"
Paul started shaking his head and laughing as he rolled around the mat. "Truth to tell, nope," he said to the others. "Doug's mom is real nice and everything, but she's a real clean freak," he burst into laughter again. "Shit you should see him just trying to walk into the house wearing shoes." Paul pulled one of his bare feet up to his eyes, crossed them and studied his toes.
After the general laughter died and Doug folded his middle fingers back after shooting Paul a double bird, Dylan came to Doug's rescue. "Shit, I can cook if you'll help. I've been living on my own since I was fourteen, unofficially of course. My parents; my mother mostly was a classic stage mom, always pushing and controlling me. I guess I was the principal breadwinner of our little family since I was two or three. I got tired, so I moved out. When they tried to stop me I threatened to stop working, that scared them because they were spending my money as fast as I made it, but I didn't know it." He shivered and studied the mat. "I found a real neat condo close to where they lived in MY fucking big house, but when I tried to buy it, I discovered I was nearly broke. They pissed everything away. I actually had to take them to court and divorce them. Can you believe that? A kid divorcing his parents."
"I remember reading about the case." John said quietly. "You won."
Dylan nodded. "Yeah, but it wasn't easy. I sat down with my agent, my accountant and my attorney and we made up a financial management plan including the few assets I had left and anticipated income from pictures that I was contracted for, for the next two years. The judge was impressed. I mostly invested in real estate, but I also got into selling myself, you know all the shit that teeny boppers buy if it's got their favorite hunk's autograph and picture on it, meaning me, I manufacture and market it, or my company does. You wouldn't believe the junk these little girls buy. The circulation of my fan magazine is up to three million now." He paused to look at Marc and grin, "That's why I told you, you could get a hundred grand for a nice layout of me. I guess you can consider it already sold since I'm the publisher." He laughed suddenly, "I think I talk too much around you guys. I've never told that to anyone before. Anyway, come on Doug let's go see what we can do in the kitchen."
After Dylan and Doug left them, John looked at Paul, "There goes a nineteen year old who's going on forty. I like him and I'm glad to see that you and Marc pick your friends wisely."
Marc frowned. "Yeah, well you know the sonofabitch got out of here before I got one damn picture of him working out."
"I wouldn't worry about it. He's welcome to stay here as long as he wants to and he can call this home whenever he's on the East Coast." John slapped Marc on the back affectionately. "Why don't you go develop that roll that has Paul doing that split on it? Then dig out a half dozen others, maybe including that nude of him on the rings from the back. You may not like it but Paul's fans will. Dylan's right, if we can market him before he gets to a big meet, the judges will have to give him better scores than they would a total unknown.
Two hours later a mini-convoy of two limousines parked at the Henderson's. Six boys jumped out of the first from both rear doors. John Wilcott and Bucky Trenton stepped out of the second after Joe their driver opened the door for them. The men were laughing and talking together like old friends. The boys tossed their shorts back in the car then waited impatiently for the men to catch up. When Joe joined Willie in leaning against the first car, both young men appeared to be relaxed, but their eyes slowly traveled back and forth around the entire open area and Doug noticed they paid particular attention to the doors and windows on that side of the house.
"Would you guys like to look around inside?" Doug asked after Buck and the other guys raced each other to the pool so they could take a swim before practice started.
"They most certainly would not." Bucky answered for them. "I know you guys are doing what you're supposed to do, but no one is aware that we were coming here. We didn't even know it until half an hour ago. Relax for awhile. Come on with us and watch Buck and Doug practice, take your shirts off and get some sun, but before you do, lose those heavy weapons that are sticking out under your shirts."
"Could we bring them and just cover them up?" Joe asked.
"Yeah, I guess, as long as they're out of sight." John agreed.
Doug walked with the men since he felt like he was their host, and when they came out of the garden, he took them to a door to the family room. He reached up and found the key, not very well hidden, over the door jam. Joe and Willie looked at each other and shook their heads. Doug laughed at what they obviously thought of as an extreme breech of security as he ushered them inside.
"This room belongs to my father and I," he explained. "Mom lets us kick back in here. There's a refrigerator behind the bar loaded with beer and soda. There's an ice maker under the bar, and most kinds of booze if you want a drink, help yourselves." Doug went back to the open door and shouted, "Hey guys! If you want anything cold to drink, it's in here!" He was able to step back in time to avoid being stomped.
Paul walked with Doug to the pool holding a Coke. "Your mom is going to kick your ass for letting us in there."
"It's okay in that room. How do you think I get to and from the pool? Do you want to start us again? The gun and stop watch are in that dock box."
The men took chairs on the side of the pool and Joe and Will stood behind them, a step away from where their shirts lay covering their guns. All four were sweating in the July sun. There was no shade close by.
"Want to swim before we start?" Buck asked. "Doug gets nasty like Paul if someone interrupts practice after we start."
Will and Joe looked at Bucky hopefully until he nodded and stood up to pull his shirt off and drop his shorts. John watched him for a second then shrugged and stripped while Will and Joe dove in together. Doug watched the two men jump in before he stepped to the edge. Marc touched Dylan's arm and whispered, "Watch Doug," and quickly raised his camera.
Once again, Doug leaned forward and allowed his body to fall. His body folded severely until his hands touched the water, then straightened again before his feet disappeared. There was almost no splash. The simple dive seemed to be done in slow motion. Marc's high-speed advance managed five frames.
Dylan watched Doug's body shape moving quickly and effortlessly to the end of the pool under the starting platforms. Then he exited as smoothly to stand and watch the others horsing around, before they climbed out and practice could begin.
"How did he do that?" Dylan asked.
Marc shrugged. "He says the water likes him. Buck told me he's already tops in the state. He's only fifteen and five-ten. He'll be awesome when he finishes growing if he can already beat the shit out of older guys who are six-four."
"Holy shit. I guess I better get my ass in gear and make reservations in Sidney next summer." Dylan looked at Marc shyly, "Want to come along?"
Marc giggled, "Dad already leased a big house there for the whole fucking summer, but I guess now we need to get tickets for the swim venue too. You can stay with us, and bunk in with me. That is if you want to."
Dylan blinked. "Want to?" he asked as he looked around. "I want to do some serious bunking with you right now. How about we go check out the garden? That big thick hedge is really neat. We should see what's on the other side."
"Yeah we should, we've got an hour or two." Marc agreed.
No one but Joe and Will noticed them stroll away casually, or see them hold hands just before they reached the corner of the house and start to run toward the hedge in question. Joe looked at Will, and winked before his eyes dropped to Will's monster cock. Will smiled slightly then moved in his chair so his legs opened and his cock dropped between them, before he crossed them quickly and blushed. Joe mouthed a one word silent question, "Later?" Will nodded before they both resumed their visual search the surrounding area.
Joe's cell phone buzzed an hour later. He listened to the caller for a minute, then leaned forward to talk to Bucky and John. "The press have arrived. They're at both gates because they aren't sure which one is Wilcott's. They also aren't sure Dylan is staying out here yet, but they can't find him in the city. What do you want to do?"
John frowned then shrugged. "Shit, I'm afraid I'm out of my element." He looked at Bucky; "I'm open to suggestions."
Bucky stared into space for thirty seconds before he grinned. "Is there somewhere here where the chopper can land? I assume it's ready to go."
"Yes Sir. There's plenty of room on the lawn in front of the house. The bird is on the pad waiting for you."
"Okay, good. Have him drop in here. You and Will take the boys to Wilcott's. Go in low from the back of the property. After, have him come back into the pad at tree top level. I'll drive John in one of the cars," he grinned at John, "into my place. That should draw them off your gate. At our gate John, you lower a window so they see you, just tell them no comment, or to get fucked for all I care. Then we'll take off for Long Island after we make sure they see the chopper leave by flying over them long enough for John to give them the finger. How's that sound?"
Joe shook his head, "What about you Sir? One of us should go with you."
"They aren't going to be looking at the driver, just John in the back. Call George; have him send a dozen uniforms out to be very obvious about guarding the gate and inside our fence. That should keep them glued to us and away from Dylan and the boys." John looked at Will; "You're the electronics expert, can we rig a few cameras to watch the road in front of John's?"
"Yes Sir, it isn't that far. I can get a signal back to our monitors easy, no sweat. But can I make a suggestion?" John nodded. "The local cops are probably overwhelmed trying to clear both gates. The road is real dinky and there are no crossroads between the highway on one end and a county road on the other. What if we just set up roadblocks on each end, using the locals combined with our people. That would give us a few large private properties as insulation on both sides. No one out there likes trespassers."
Buck giggled. "Even better. Do that," he agreed, then got serious. "I think from now on, I'd like it very much if you two were attached permanently to Bucky. He's a little wise ass and too smart for his own good, meaning sneaky. A lot of things have changed this weekend. He's got friends now and won't be moping around the house. He's going to be much more visible. Doug and Paul are probably going to the Olympics next summer, so they'll be high profile very quickly as they go to national and international competitions. I know Buck is planning to attend every one of them without asking. If I told him no, he'd steal a plane first then figure out how to fly it in the air. He likes you guys, and I think he'd listen to you as long as you don't treat him like a kid."
"Wouldn't we kind of cramp his style, you know, being around him all the time?" Will asked as he nodded to Buck sitting by Doug on the pool combing with their feet in the water. Doug was explaining some point involving his hands. Buck was leaning into Doug with his head almost on Doug's shoulder. He watched Doug's hands and was listening intently, but as they watched, Buck put a hand on Doug's thigh to caress it absently. It was a movement that lovers might do naturally to each other. Their looks, when they made eye contact with each other shouted confirmation.
Bucky cleared his throat. "Err, yeah, I guess it's obvious that, that's one of the changes I mentioned. All six of these kids get along like that, although I think separate special relationships are forming; Buck and Doug, Paul and Morgan."
"And Marc and Dylan." Joe finished for Bucky, nodding to them as they strolled too casually back to the side of the pool area separated by three feet of space. Both grinned at nothing and carefully avoided looking at each other.
"At least anyone who doesn't know them wouldn't know they were," John inhaled, "queer." He said the word painfully. "I've known in my heart for a couple of years, and I still can't believe it. Hell I ignored it; I kept telling their mother that it was just a phase. Now suddenly there's four more of them and every one of them is so damned masculine."
"Actually, there will be eight of us if you still want to assign Joe and I to Buck. You see Sir, we're gay too." Bucky and John looked startled. "But we're kind of a permanent couple, we're monogamous so far."
Bucky recovered from the surprise first and shrugged. "That would make the task of watching over Buck easier for all concerned, wouldn't it?" Then he had a thought; "Does Buck know about you? I mean has he ever, ah."
Will laughed, "Come on to either of us?"
"Yes. If he did, he didn't mention it." Bucky admitted.
"No he hasn't, and if you asked him, if he thought about it, he'd realize he knew, deep down he knows. He just has a thing for Doug right now really, so he isn't looking. I don't think it matters if any of them know, they'll just learn to ignore us mostly after they find out we're a couple and they get to know us, but you realize we are human," Will looked at Joe, "there could be temptations."
"I think we'll be in for some ribbing about being married," Joe said and raised his hand to show the fathers a gold band on his ring finger. Will's ring matched Joe's.
"I'll be damned," Bucky laughed, "just call me dense I guess. When George sent you to meet me the first time, he said you were a couple, and that went right over my head. I thought he meant a team, like you worked together, where you worked before you joined me." Bucky glanced at John and stopped talking.
Will smiled, "It doesn't matter if Mr. Wilcott knows. Joe and I met in basic training. I'm an electrical engineer; my specialty is electronic surveillance, so I packed a gun that I didn't need and worked in an office. Joe is a linguist; he's fluent in more languages than I knew existed. He worked in the field and maybe had more use for his weapon on occasion. They knew we were gay, but it didn't matter. I guess talent out weighed the problem for our superiors. In fact, as a field operative, it was a useful inclination." Joe blushed and looked away, as Will continued, "Then when Joe came home on leave one time, we decided to join up as life partners, or whatever you want to call it, and the shit hit the proverbial fan. We became instant security risks and were asked to resign."
Joe picked up their story. "We applied to all of the big security companies together, but separately. When one of us got an interview, we both showed up. We were up front with everyone we talked to. When we interviewed with George, he didn't care that we were a couple, in fact he liked the idea. It turned out that he retired from the same agency we worked for and called the current management a bunch of asshole incompetents and his opinion of the politicians on the oversight committee was even more ah, colorful. Anyway, here we are, two queers in love with each other, not with your sons, but as Will said, being in close proximity." he shrugged.
John studied the two young men while they talked. When Joe finished his narrative, he sighed, smiled and looked at Bucky. "If our sons turn out to be as level headed and well adjusted as these two guys I'll be a happy camper, as they say."
"Thanks Mr. Wilcott." Will grinned happily, shaking hands with John.
"Please call me John."
"Okay John, thanks. What do we do when they're at school? Going underground like teaching or coaching won't work because we'd have to take off to go wherever they, or I mean, Buck went." Will corrected himself.
Bucky shook his head. "No, you were right the first time. They, Buck, Marc and Doug, and probably the fourth kid too. I don't think that will be a problem. There's two kids there now, Arab princes, they both have bodyguards with them and one even has a personal servant, so you can be open about why you're there. If you get bored, think about something like volunteering as coaches or help out teaching in the computer lab or language classes. I can smooth the way for you there, just remember the kids will need their space. Oh, and if something comes up and you need help, like if they take off in three or four different directions at the same time, call George anytime."
"What are you guys doing, holding a union meeting?" Buck asked. The four men looked up to see he and Doug standing near them. Buck giggled, "You better fire these two old goons as bodyguards Dad, if we wanted to snatch your butt, you'd be history and they'd be floating in the pool. Doug says we're finished with practice today, so we're finished."
"Old huh? I'll show you old. Let's take them out." Will said. He instantly went into a crouched position as he moved at Buck. He caught Buck around the waist, and tossed him over his shoulder. In three more steps he jumped into the pool. Joe followed with Doug a split second later. The young men released their holds on the boys as soon as they hit the water. Doug and Joe surfaced laughing. Buck's head appeared and he started to sprint for the far end. Will's head broke the surface sputtering. "He honked me! Where is he? I'm going to drown him!" He laughed, looking for Buck, who was already out of the pool, ten feet from the edge, giggling and ready to run.
The other guys jumped in around Will trying to slow him down by grabbing his arms and legs and trying to duck him, although they each got ducked for their efforts after Joe joined in Will's defense. Everything stopped when the sound of a helicopter grew louder until it appeared over trees in front of the house. Bucky had Will's cell phone to his ear, and was directing it's landing as he and John walked toward the front. Will and Joe vaulted out of the water then pulled the boys out as they swam to the side.
"Play time's over for now guys." Joe told them, then explained the game plan for getting them back to the Wilcott estate secretly because of the crowd at each gate. The boys ran as a group, to catch up to the fathers and watch the big bird land. Joe and Will pulled on their shorts and shirts and re-clipped their weapons holsters to the waistbands in the middle of their backs.
Will frowned, "I have a feeling that this assignment is going to be rough," he said very seriously after he looked to see that they were alone.
"How so? I think it's going to be fun, and I know we won't be bored like Bucky thinks." Joe grinned.
"I didn't mean that. Little Buck didn't honk me like I said. He more like stroked me a couple of times as we went under. That's why I let him go so fast." Will confessed.
"If it's any consolation, I enjoyed throwing Doug over my shoulder, but I realized it was a mistake as soon as my arm got around his legs. I held him tighter than I needed to, so his cock was pressed against the side of my chest, then I just couldn't resist putting my hand on that tight little ass of his. When we surfaced the look he gave me told me he wanted to play too."
"Yeah, he's hot, shit they're all hot and I think when they're alone and naked, they get it on together whenever the spirit moves them. There's just no way we can stand around watching."
Joe nodded, "I don't think Buck or John ever thought we would, but if we do, we'll do it together. At least there won't be any sneaking around about it."
"This afternoon should be interesting when we're alone with them."
"Shit, lunch is going to be interesting. I keep thinking about hot dogs for some reason." Joe held up his hands and moved them apart, "I'd say about that long."
"I wonder why? Let's go." Will looked at the empty chairs Bucky and John vacated. "I wonder if they want their clothes? I'll bring them along just in case. Nudity is easy to get used to enjoying."
Marc started laughing and pointing at his father while he pull up his boxer shorts. They sported a big red heart on the front. "Were you planning to get lucky today Dad? You abandoned Mom on Long Island, and you're wearing those."
John grinned while he covered his underwear with his shorts. "No wise ass, this was supposed to be a long quiet weekend with your mother, and she gave me these for Valentine's Day." He pointed at the sky over Marc's head. "If you look up there you'll see your new underwater camera disappearing because of that crack." He giggled as Marc's laughter degenerated into a pout.
After the men waved the chopper into the air, Bucky scooted to the rear door of their limo, opened it and bowed to John. "I've heard that you get a million bucks for a retainer, but that's chicken feed compared to what I'm charging you for this trip."
John laughed and settled himself in his seat. "It might be worth it to be able to say you once worked for me as my driver. This is getting to be fun. Home Buckminster, if you please."
The boys and their bodyguards settled into seats as four couples, until the helicopter lifted off and started gaining altitude. Then they all attempted to look out windows on both sides at once. Doug looked around at the interior. "Wow Buck, this is just like Marine One."
Buck nodded. "It's the same kind. Dad could have gotten something smaller, but he was concerned about hauling business guys. He didn't want to say, `Sorry, my helicopter's too small.' to anyone. The Trenton clan thinks big," he giggled as everyone laughed.
The chopper was less than twenty feet above the peak of the Wilcott field house before it settled into the open area between it and the house. It lifted off again as soon as everyone was clear of the big rotor, but not far enough away from the down draft.
"Fuck me!" Marc screamed into the wind, trying to protect his camera from the dust.
"Okay, if you really want me to." Dylan answered when it got quiet enough.
Marc grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah!" Then frowned looking at Doug. "But first, what's for lunch? I'm starved, we're all starved." He watched Doug drop his shorts and look at Dylan, hoping for another bailout. "You best think up something fast too, or I'll do the cooking. We'll have Rocky Mountain Oysters, yours, and you'll be singing soprano for the rest of your life and Buck will be on top."
"How about pizza?" Doug asked ignoring the threat to his balls. "We could order them and have them delivered." He nodded, willing everyone to agree. He relaxed when they did, then started arguing about what toppings each liked as they walked down to the bunkhouse.
"What was that about Buck being on top?" Will asked with a straight face. He walked with Joe at the rear of the group.
Marc blushed, "OOPS! Would it bother you if I told you we're all gay?" "Not if it doesn't bother you if Joe and I are too." Will grinned seeing Marc's surprise first then his eyes drop to his limp eight inch fun gun. "We aren't trying to hook up with you guys, we just thought you should know because we've been assigned to you from now on, including school. So you can relax and be yourselves when we're around, since we'll always be around."
Buck took Doug's hand and looked up at him. "I told you so," before he grinned at the young men. "What if we try to hook up with you?"
Joe answered with a question not a refusal, "We thought you two were a couple, aren't you?"
"Sure," Buck countered, "but what's that got to do with sex?" He asked pulling Doug with him to stand in front of Will.
Paul stopped Buck from reaching out to Will, "Hold it Buckminster, not here in the middle of the lawn, and most definitely not before the pizzas are delivered, which won't happen if Doug doesn't order them."
The delivery boy was mobbed before he could open his car door forty-five minutes later. Doug explained that they were all hungry, and by then, they were, but not necessarily for pizza.