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.