Author's Introductory Notes:
As usual, I retain all rights, but am more than glad for anyone wishing to offer this story to others at no charge to do so with my gratitude and permission. Josh.
CHAPTER 15 -- Turning Points
I awoke just after dawn, with an urgent need to take a piss. When I returned to the bed, I found Davey sleeping on his stomach atop the covers. His almost white-blond hair had fallen across his eyes, but the rest of him was gloriously exposed, and I paused by the bed, simply to look at him. After last night, everything was different. Even Davey's naked body seemed different. At least, I was looking at him differently.
It might be years before we ever 'married,' but Davey said he wanted to, just like I wanted to. Last night we had both agreed: 'someday' we would. And this was no longer simply my best friend and lover lying on the bed; someday, Davey would be my life-mate. In a sense, he already was — there was a new and deeper bond, at least in my heart.
Slats of light from the morning sun, shining through the blinds, fell across his body like small spotlights, drawing my eye. The pools of light made him look more beautiful than I had ever seen him before. As I stepped back out of my shorts, I let my eyes travel up the lines of Davey's body — up his long legs and firm butt, up his narrow hips and across his muscular back, and then down over his biceps and forearms. He was mine now, more than ever, and I delighted in looking at him.
Climbing back onto the bed, I sat cross-legged beside him and took him in slowly with my eyes. I began with his feet and let my gaze travel up his strong thighs, memorizing each golden leg hair. His long thigh muscles were firm and tight even in sleep. They flowed in smooth lines up to join at his butt, where the back of his balls just peeked underneath. Hardly a freckle marred the perfection of his skin, or the pale tones that made it almost glow.
His butt rose in soft-covered white mounds, before dipping to the hard muscles of his back and the fading remnants of his summer tan line. Fine golden hairs radiated up from the base of his spine, drawing my eye up from his slender waist to the rise of his back and the spread of his shoulders.
I bent over the spot where the long muscles of his back anchored at the base of his spine and blew lightly on those fine golden hairs. Then I lowered my nose to the space between his legs, breathing deep. My cock stretched past its foreskin and out to my crossed legs, reaching almost to touch the side of Davey's butt.
Lying down on my side, I cocked my head on my elbow and inventoried each muscle and bone in Davey's shoulders, lingering where his white hair feathered over the tan at the back of his neck. I ended with a long admiration of his head, of his ear and nose where they peeked from his hair, of the line of his jaw, and the red of his lips.
I moved closer and gently put a leg over his butt and an arm over his back. With a pleased sigh, I rested my head on the pillow beside him, close enough to feel his breath. He'd been my best friend all my life and I never dreamed I could be so in love with him.
I snuggled closer, my cock now hard against his side. I wanted desperately to make love to Davey, but I hated to wake him up. The problem was, he felt good against me, and I wasn't sure I could get back to sleep. Trying at first not to wake him, I lightly grabbed Davey's shoulder and began to slowly slide my erection against the side of his butt.
Davey groaned and turned his face away from me. I nuzzled my nose into the back of his hair and tightened my leg over his butt. He groaned again.
Damn, I wanted him. "Hey, Old Man," I said in a low voice. "Do you belong to me?"
"When I wake up," he grumbled. "Go back to sleep."
I admit, I felt a little resentful, knowing that I'd wake up for him. I realized I was being petty, so I pulled his hair aside and kissed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Old Man," I whispered, then rolled off him onto my back and stroked myself slowly, wondering whether I needed to jack off in order to get back to sleep.
I closed my eyes, and tried to relax. But then Davey rolled over, reaching for my cock and put his head on the pillow next to mine. He shook the hair out of his face and smiled, sleepily. "I do belong to you, Old Man," he whispered. "You don't ever tell me 'no.' I won't tell you 'no' either."
He tickled my balls, smiling, and then rolled onto his side away from me. "All yours," he said, patting his butt.
No, I thought. I won't let you sleep now. Retrieving lube from his nightstand, I prepared his butt and moved up behind him. I grabbed his hips and watched the head of my cock disappear into the crack of his butt as I pushed in slowly, relishing the feel of his tightness giving way to my crown, and then slowly traveling down my shaft. I pushed in until his butt was snug in the fold of my body and pulled his hips until we were tight. Then I wrapped his body in mine, from the front of my thighs against the back of his, to my belly on his back, and my chest between his shoulder blades. Then I put my arms around his waist and softly touched my lips to the back of his neck.
"Go back to sleep," I whispered. "I'll take it easy."
Davey chuckled. "It's too late now," he said. "I'm hard, too. My turn next."
I was back home later that morning and spent most of the day helping Amy take care of the baby. I was tired and more than once, eyed the couch longingly. But I found myself totally enthralled with little David — my own son. He was still tiny, still just an infant, but already he was a person, a presence. And whether I projected my feelings on to him or not, it seemed to me that he was already showing the earliest signs of personality. And that personality was sweet, just like the person he was named for.
Sunday night, I called Grandpa from the phone in the kitchen to see how he was doing.
"Michael!" he greeted me happily. "I just got your mom's pictures of little David yesterday. He's a cute kid… well, actually he's as ugly as most babies, but he's a real Bentolli, and that makes him cute."
"He is cute, Grandpa," I agreed.
"He sure has enough hair," Grandpa said. "He's definitely got some Italian blood."
"Not all Italian blood," I said, laughing. "He's got a real sweet personality."
"I'm sweet, and I'm Italian," he protested.
"Right, Grandpa. Shall I ask Grandma Bentolli about that?"
"Hush, Michael. Just tell me: have you started teaching him chess yet?"
I smiled. "No, Grandpa," I said. "I don't want him to beat you until he's at least seven."
We both laughed and then grew quiet. We both knew Grandpa wouldn't see little David at seven. My silence gave me away.
"Your mom told you, didn't she?" he asked.
"Yes sir," I acknowledged. "And I'm glad she did."
He cleared his throat. "Perhaps it's good she did. It's not like I'm going to be gone tomorrow. They say attitude is real important, and I've got a great attitude."
I wasn't sure what to say, and I don't think grandpa knew what to say next either.
"Say, uh… Grandpa," I began, trying to think of something to change the subject. "I've been working on forgiving people… well, at least one person."
"That's good, Michael."
"I'm not kidding, Grandpa," I said. "We needed to forgive each other for… some things. And we did. I know it's not a big deal, but I just thought I'd tell you I'm trying."
"I didn't think you were kidding," Grandpa said. "Friends need to stay forgiven. You and Davey will always need to be quick to forgive each other."
"Yeah, I think we're learning that."
The phone line grew quiet, and then Grandpa took a deep breath. "Michael," he said, "there's an old saying between husbands and wives: don't ever go to bed angry. That means, never go to bed without taking care of any problems between you that day." There was an awkward silence, and then he cleared his throat. "I just thought that might be something good for — well, for you and Davey to practice."
That couldn't have been easy for him to say. It was almost like he recognized Davey and me as lovers.
Again the line grew quiet until I heard a small sob.
"Grandpa," I asked quietly. "Are you alright?"
He cleared his throat, and then cleared it again. "They warned me," he said. "My doctors. They warned me that I might become more emotional. They also warned me that I would need to tell the people I love, how much I care for them... I love you, Michael."
I cradled the phone in my hand and blinked my watering eyes. "I love you too, Grandpa."
Wednesday, Mr. Weishamer asked me to stay late to help him with a project, and so I told Davey I'd catch up with him at home. But when I got there, no one was around. I went over to Davey's house and found him there, talking with Mitch in the living room.
I knew I had been the one to invite Mitch over to the house the first time, to talk about being gay, but I hadn't forgotten that Davey staring at Mitch's butt was what had gotten us into such a heavy discussion only a few days before.
"Where's Amy?" I asked. "And little David?"
Davey shrugged, the smile disappearing from his face. "Her mom picked them up to go to the doctor's. Maybe they're still over there."
"Okay, but what are you doing over here?" I asked, frowning and looking from Mitch on the couch to Davey in Maggie's chair.
Mitch quickly spoke up. "I just dropped by to see if you and Davey would go with me to the mall for a while and show me… well, how to spot gays walking around," he explained apologetically. "We were waiting for you."
"Oh?" I said, trying not to look skeptical.
Davey jumped up from the chair, a scowl on his face, grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back to his room. He slammed the door behind us and brought his angry face nose to nose with mine. "You promised!" he fumed. "You promised you would… trust me! And now you… embarrass… me!"
I reeled back. I started to say that after what he'd done before, what else was I to think, after finding him home alone with another guy, for who knows how long. But I caught myself. I had promised to literally forget what he'd done before, and I wasn't keeping my promise.
I backed to the bed and sat down, rubbing my eyes. Suddenly I felt very tired. "Damn, Davey," I said. "I'm so sorry. I was awful."
He stood in front of me, his hands on his hips, looking only slightly less angry.
"I do trust you," I continued. I just… well, I kind of forgot for a second. It won't happen again."
His expression didn't change.
I stood up and put my hands on his shoulders. "What I did was really bad. I know that. I know that sort of thing could really hurt us. I do trust you, Davey. I really do. If you want to go to the mall with Mitch by yourself, go ahead and go — I trust you, OK."
His look softened. "No, you come too." Then he smiled. "I told Mitch we'd use you as bait."
Davey grinned. "I told Mitch – I spot gays by lookin' to see who stares at you." He giggled. "I told him we'd walk you in front of us and watch guys to see who stared."
I laughed and squeezed his shoulder. "Well fair's fair, I guess. I usually spot gays by seeing who stares at you." His smile told me already, but I asked. "Am I forgiven then?"
He nodded, put a hand behind my head, and drew me forward for a kiss.
The mall was probably good 'trusting Davey' practice for me. I still wasn't comfortable giving him carte blanche to lust after other guys' butts, just because we were teaching Mitch how to spot gays. But he did better at not staring than even I did.
We had spotted several likely candidates, though Davey sure thought more guys were gay than I did. Then I saw Knox's student Joel come out of a store ahead of us, and I got a perverse idea. Turning to Mitch, who was walking between Davey and me, I put a hand on his shoulder.
"Sometimes, Mitch, you just know by looking that a guy is gay. Watch this."
Before I could pick up our pace to catch Joel, a drop-dead, gorgeous guy in his twenties passed us, headed in the other direction. All our heads turned and we saw when he snuck a look back at us.
"He's one!" Davey said.
"Oh, yeah," I agreed.
"So that's how you know," Mitch said, incredulous.
"Oh, sometimes it more subtle, but you just know," I said, turning back to look for Joel's red shirt. For a moment, I couldn't see him, then I realized we were about to pass him.
"Watch this," I said to Mitch, quickly walking up behind Joel. With a wink back at Mitch, I slapped Joel's butt.
A guy at least ten years older than Joel turned around open mouthed. I was taller than him, but he had a hard face and looked like the type who might conceal weapons and carve initials into his arm for light entertainment, and he looked angry.
"Holy shit!" I gasped, back peddling.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he yelled, stepping toward me.
"I'm sorry!" I said, waving my hand. "I thought you were someone else. Honest."
"Just who the hell did you think I was?" he demanded, glancing at Davey and Mitch's shocked faces before turning his glare back to mine.
"My brother," I said, desperately. "I thought you were my, uh, brother."
For a moment, we stared at each other while passersby gave us a wide berth.
"But Mickey," Davey spoke up. "You don't have a brother!"
I shot Davey a look of horror. His eyes twinkled.
"Fuckin' asshole," the guy grumbled and turned away.
My hands were instantly around Davey's neck. "You trying to get me killed?" I shouted.
He and Mitch roared.
"Dammit!" I growled, taking my hands from Davey's neck. "I thought for sure it was Joel! I know I saw him just a second ago," I insisted, but they were hardly paying attention. I leaned closer to them. "Mitch doesn't know Joel, so I was gonna make him think I was downright clairvoyant at finding gays."
At that, both of them doubled over with laugher. "Oh, you're definitely good at it!" roared Mitch.
Davey caught his breath long enough to gasp, "Find us some more!" And they both collapsed in hysterics.
Even though my hands were trembling, I had to smile. I shoved my hands into my pockets and shook my head. "You aren't ever going to let me forget this are you?"
Both of them were completely overcome with laughter. Several passersby eyed us warily, as if the three of us were completely insane. Mitch leaned against the wall to catch his breath.
A lady carrying packages had to stop and walk around Davey, who was having trouble staying on his feet, he was laughing so hard. She glared at me.
"Teenagers!" I said, making a helpless gesture as an explanation.
Over the next couple of weeks, I was kept busy juggling school, helping Davey study, working on the network security protocols for Carlson-Bentolli, getting the exercise Dr. Kazan wanted me to do, and helping with nighttime feedings for little David.
As if those things weren't enough to exhaust me, Mom and Amy wanted me to start walking Little David for fifteen to twenty minutes each time he woke for a nighttime feeding. By walking him before I brought him back to Amy, we would begin to stretch the times between David's feedings and train him to sleep longer at night.
Amy couldn't do the walking. Once she picked up little David, he'd smell her mother's milk and become desperate. Mom was willing to help, but David's crib was in the living room with me, and I always woke up first anyway when he started crying. So I was elected to walk the baby at night, which meant I wound up with even less sleep.
One night, Amy was sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in her robe, when I brought David in.
"You're already awake," I observed.
She nodded in the dim light.
"I was so sleepy," I told her, as I handed her the baby, "that I wasn't paying attention, and the little guy latched on to my nipple while I was walking him! Damn, he sucks hard. No wonder you get tender." I laughed. "Sure woke me up, though."
She nodded, but was quiet. Her hair had grown long, with rich curls, and it hung over her face. As she opened her robe and held David next to her breast, I sat down beside her and looked closely. A few tears trickled down the right side of her face.
"Missing your mom again?" I asked as I put a hand on her shoulder.
She nodded, and then wiped the tears away. "My mother was here again today," she said. "But I still miss her at night. I miss my room, and my home, and my brothers… I even miss my dad," she said quietly.
That asshole, I thought. I moved closer, putting an arm around her while she nursed David and I kissed the side of her head. "Things are going to work out," I promised.
She leaned her head against my shoulder and rested her hand on my thigh. "I know," she said quietly. "Just so you know Michael, I love David, and I'm never going to give him up for adoption."
I hugged her shoulder and tried to ignore her hand on my leg, but my cock wouldn't ignore it. As tired as I was, an erection began to crawl down my leg, but I pretended it wasn't there.
"You're being really brave, Amy," I said. "I wish there was more I could do to help."
She sighed. "You and Gloria have been great, Michael. You're really taking good care of David and me."
To my embarrassment, the end of my cock poked out of the leg of my shorts and Amy saw. She chuckled and patted my erection through my shorts leg.
"Seems like we've been here before," she said, returning her hand to the top of my thigh. "I'm glad I can still have that effect on a guy."
I gave her shoulder a hug. "More than ever, Amy. You're really beautiful these days." I looked down and winced. "Sorry about the, uh… reaction. Sorta automatic, you know?"
Amy gave the top of my thigh an affectionate little rub, and then switched David to the other breast. "It's not always easy being around you so much, Michael, let alone living under the same roof as you. And especially when you run around in nothing but boxers."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll start wearing more clothes."
"No. Don't," she said and laid her head back on my shoulder. "I like looking at you. And all I really need is what you're doing right now — just holding me so I don't feel so lonely. Besides," she said, chuckling softly. "I'm not exactly up to 'partying' right now."
I cleared my throat. "Just so you know, Amy," I said, hugging her shoulder. "Davey and I are being faithful to each other."
She said nothing, but patted my leg. And I thought about how easy it could have been, if I'd never known Davey, to love a girl, and get married and have babies. I thought how easy it would be to love Amy. I looked down past her head to where David suckled at her full breast, and felt my heart stir. It'd be very easy to love her.
She sat up and carefully handed David to me. He had fallen asleep, and I leaned him against my chest. "He's finished now," she whispered, as she pulled her robe closed. "Thanks, Michael." She leaned up and kissed my cheek. "You're a good dad."
"You're just saying that so I'll go change his diaper now," I said with a gentle smile.
"Thank you." She winked and patted my leg. She stood and followed me to the door. "I feel better now, Michael. Thank you."
She kissed my cheek and closed the door as I returned to the living room. I looked down at the little figure snuggled against my shoulder. Hmmm, I thought. From this angle, his forehead and nose look like Davey's. But his eyes and mouth look like mine. I chuckled; it was nonsense. But I could imagine passing on Davey characteristics because he was so much a part of who I was.
"I just hope you're even half as beautiful as Uncle Davey is when you get older," I whispered to the sleeping baby. He stirred, and then stretched out his hand across my chest.
After that night, Davey and I made a point of getting Amy out more, even taking her to her house when her dad wasn't going to be around. I tried to keep her company, especially at night when she was nursing David. But it wasn't easy. I was beginning to feel like a zombie. I even fell asleep on the bed with her and little David one night, and didn't wake until dawn. Damn, I thought, as I sat up, trying to clear my head. At least Amy gets naps during the day.
I had mentioned Amy's loneliness to Larice, and before long, Larice began joining us around the kitchen table after school, not only helping Amy with little David, but even helping me work with Davey on his lessons. As the days passed, others stopped by to visit, including Amy's youngest brother. Unlike his father, he never seemed bothered by my being gay.
Yet, even with the extra help from my friends, I still wasn't getting nearly enough sleep.
I certainly wasn't in my best shape for the couple of near run-ins I had with Larry at school. Things finally came to a head with him the second Tuesday morning in November.
He and his buddies caught me alone just after English class, and he deliberately bumped into me, knocking my books from my hands. Well, I'd had enough. Without even thinking, I spun around and caught him full in the mouth with my fist.
One of his buddies shoved me. Then someone jabbed me hard in the back. I clutched my back and turned to try to square off against him, but suddenly, he was gone, taken to the floor by a flying tackle from Chase.
One of Larry's buddies slammed me into the wall. It stunned me for a moment, and then Davey was there, pushing the guy away. Larry grabbed Davey's shoulder, swung him around, and caught him on the chin.
I roared and came at Larry, fists swinging, mindlessly, powerfully, too fast for him to respond. I landed several blows to his face before one of his buddies grabbed me from behind. It was Robert Garcia. His arms pinned mine to my side. All I could do was kick, and I kicked back at Robert. My heel caught the top of his shin and a loud howl echoed down the hall as he released me and fell to the floor, clutching his knee.
"What'd you fuckin' do, asshole?" Larry shrieked, stepping up beside me to look down at Robert. Bruises were already showing on Larry's face, his lip was bloody, and I thought I noticed the beginning of a black eye. I had made a mess of his face, and felt both sorry and rather pleased at the same time.
Suddenly, then there were teachers moving between us to break things up. People began to split as Robert rolled on the floor, clutching his knee.
Robert was first-string varsity, and the team still had one big football game to go. As a teacher led me away to the principal's office, I could suddenly see myself as persona-summa-non-grata around school.
"This isn't over, Bentolli!" Larry bellowed from behind me.
"Anytime, squirt," I yelled back. It wasn't wise, I know. But it sure felt good.
From the principal, I received a lot of head wagging and a long lament over my slide into depravity and hooliganism. He seemed to think I was becoming a dangerous provocateur and ended the session by intimating that even an 'A' student could be expelled.
I almost found it refreshing. It was a change, being a 'bad boy.'
Surprisingly, both Davey and Chase came out of the fight with more bruises than me. All I really had was a dark spot on the forehead, along with a small scrape on my right knuckle. I felt bad about Robert's knee, but they iced it down, and by the end of the day, word made it around campus that he might even be able to play on Friday.
What also made it around the campus was that it might not be wise to mess with the queers after all. They weren't so harmless. And neither were their friends. Oh, no one thought Chase was gay. But they now knew what kind of friends at least one gay had.
And Davey had stuck up for me! That meant a lot.
The fight did something great for me. I reclaimed some of my manhood that day. I was a man. The fact that my hands shook for the rest of the day was irrelevant. I had been strong, and these guys weren't going to beat me.
My hands were still trembling when I saw Dr. Kazan the next day. There just didn't seem to be any way to stop them. He told me to start again on the medicine that made me drowsy, after agreeing to give me a lighter dosage. I still wouldn't promise to take it every day; I hated the feeling it gave me, making me sleepy and dulling my brain.
That evening, Mom waited till we were through eating and Amy had left for the living room. As Davey and I began to clear the table, she leaned back, watching me. "Dr. Kazan called today. He still thinks you're overdoing things, and he doesn't like you sleeping on the couch."
I protested, but she held up her hand to silence me.
"I told him you wanted to, Michael," she continued. "I explained that you really love the baby, and that you love Amy, too. It shows. And don't get all bothered! I don't necessarily mean romantically," she waved her hands, dismissively. "But you do love her — maybe more like a sister… or as the mother of your son. Anyway," she said, taking a sip of tea, "I told him you were doing what you wanted to, but that I'd at least talk to you."
I shrugged. "I'm OK, Mom."
"You know, Michael," she said, cautiously, "you could let your company take care of itself for a while. Or at least consider dropping out of school, or going to a private school."
I shook my head. "We talked about that before, Mom," I insisted. "Dr. Kazan agreed with me that my problems aren't going to go away unless I face them. And I'm not going to let those jerks at school make me quit."
"Alright, alright," she said, defeated. "But at least let me help more with little David, especially at night. He's beginning to sleep really well." She sighed. "Why don't you sleep over at Davey's?"
Davey's head jerked up and he looked my way expectantly.
"You mean, move in with him?" I asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter.
Mom looked down at her glass of tea and swirled it. "Yes — move in with him. At least for now. You really need your rest, Michael."
There was a whoop beside me. Davey suddenly had his arms around me and was lifting me from the ground.
Mom shook her head. She still hadn't completely accepted the two of us as a couple, but at least this was a sign she was making the effort.
One step at a time, I thought. I calmed Davey down. "I'm not sure," I said. "I still want to help with little David as much as I can."
"Hold up your hands, Michael," Mom ordered.
I frowned at her.
"Hold them up," she repeated.
I held them up. It was obvious to all three of us that they were still trembling slightly.
"That's it," she said flatly. "You're moving in with Davey. I know you'll get more rest over there."
Davey leaned closer. "Please?" he asked.
I sighed, and then nodded. "OK. We'll do it this weekend," I agreed. "We'll have more time to do it then."
The next day, I mentioned to Ed that I'd be moving in with Davey so that he'd know where to call me at night. And the next afternoon, Fred Roche came by. He looked over both our houses and then sat Davey and me down in my living room.
"Have you two ever thought about moving?" he asked.
"To an apartment?" Davey asked, warming to Fred's question.
"No," Fred answered. "To a house. Some place we can make more secure. You two are about to become very important to the security of a lot of government, military, and corporate clients. I know Ed Armstrong thinks he's kept your identities well hidden, but that won't last. We need to find someplace secure — maybe a gated neighborhood where your moms can live, too… and your young friend, Amy, and her baby."
Davey's mouth dropped, and I could just see his mind working. "Can it be in the country?" I asked. "I always wanted to live in the hill country."
Fred thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Sure," he said. "Maybe somewhere halfway between San Antonio and Austin. That'd work."
"It has to be on a hilltop," I said. "I want to live on top of a hill."
He smiled. "Well, that might actually make it easier for security if we're isolated like that. You can build your own place, you know. That might be even better than trying to find an existing house. I think we're going to have some special security and surveillance requirements wherever you live."
"And a river," Davey insisted. "I want a river… like the place we camped that time in scouts — the one with the big tree."
Fred smiled. "Good. You two start looking. Get your moms in on it. Women love looking for houses and property."
Davey was grinning from ear to ear and put his arm around my shoulders. "Our own house," he said with almost embarrassing enthusiasm.
It all seemed like a dream. I liked the dream.
The next afternoon, Friday afternoon, I had fallen asleep on the front porch couch while trying to read about the new uses of computer graphics in movies like Tron and Last Starfighter. Oh, it was a good article; I was just tired. Even though it was a warm day, I was wearing only my shorts and was comfortable.
Davey was inside, helping Amy bathe little David. It was peaceful and I was sleeping, dead to the world.
In my dream, Geoff was standing over me, and I realized how vulnerable I was, lying on the couch like this. There was no way to escape. I tried and my body wouldn't respond.
And then I woke with a start to actually find Geoff there, standing over me. I cried out, and Geoff stumbled back. It took only a moment before the front door flew open and Davey rushed out, his hands clenched into fists.
"Hold on, Davey," I mumbled, sitting up. "It's OK. I was sleeping and he just… he just kind of surprised me."
"Geez, Bent," Geoff gasped. "You scared the living shit outta me!"
I stood up, rubbing my eyes. "So what the hell are you doing here?"
He spread his hands apologetically. "I just wanted to talk. You don't ever answer the phone or return any of my messages."
Davey stepped up beside me and put his arm around my waist.
That was true enough. I hadn't ever returned his calls, especially over the last couple of months, but I had been wrestling with doing what Grandpa had wanted me to do — I had at least thought about forgiving Geoff, and moving on. And I'd actually done pretty well at forgetting him. But now he was on my front porch and forgetting him wasn't possible.
Since I was just wearing shorts, I felt almost naked in front of him. I didn't want him looking at me and crossed my arms over my bare chest. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want to talk to you?" I asked.
He frowned. "I'm not stupid, Bent. You were obvious enough. But maybe I needed to talk to you."
Geoff sighed and actually hung his head. "Anyway, I've been doin' a lot of thinkin', Michael," he said, glancing at me with a nervous smile. "I guess what goes around, comes around, huh? Now I know what it was like for Brandon when he got found out." Geoff shuffled his feet. "I'm sorry I screwed things up for you, too, Bent — especially after what happened before. I sure don't blame you for how you feel about me."
He glanced up at me. "I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person that I'm different now. I'm not the same guy I was before. And I'm sorry." He began to back away. "I just needed to say I was sorry, face to face. I… I won't bother you any more. Not unless you ask me first."
I frowned, wondering whether he really meant it.
He paused. "I've met a really great guy over in Alamo Heights," he said with a half-smile. "He reminds me of you, in a lot of ways. He's cute like you — long neck, sorta small face with a big head of hair." Our eyes met and I'm afraid he saw the hate there. He looked away and turned slowly for the porch steps. Stopping at the first, he turned back. "I'm really sorry."
Once more he turned to go and even though Grandpa was up in Chicago, it was almost as if I sensed him standing next to me, his hand on my shoulder. My breath caught and a sob escaped my throat. Geoff turned, and Davey put his hand on my shoulder.
Tears streamed from my face and it took every bit of my will not to hate Geoff; hate him for this final torture. But I pulled myself to my full height and looked him in the eye despite my tears. My lips quivered and my hands trembled under my arms. It took a while for the words to reach my throat; they had to come from very deep inside. And then they burst out.
"I forgive you," I said. I straightened my back and set my jaw. Then I took a ragged breath. "I will forgive you. The things you did to me…" I struggled with emotions as I thought of Grandpa's definition of forgiveness. "Those… things you did – I'll…" I shook my head. "I'll try to forget."
Geoff looked startled. His jaw dropped and he started to step closer but I held up my hand to stop him and backed a step. Davey moved between us.
Geoff stopped, and then nodded. "Thanks, Bent." He held his hands out wide. "If I can ever do anything…"
I looked away.
Geoff sighed and walked away.
The trembling started to spread from my hands to the rest of my body, but I fought it.
Davey wrapped both arms around me, putting his forehead to the side of mine. "You OK, Mickey?" he asked.
I nodded, watching Geoff get into his car.
"That was good, Mickey," Davey said. "That was… that was awesome."
Geoff's car disappeared up the street and I was surprised to almost find a feeling of grief and emptiness come over me. He was gone and I couldn't hate him anymore.
Davey squeezed my shoulders and I turned to look into his deep blue eyes. The day really was quite lovely. Birds were singing in the trees. A gentle breeze blew across the porch. From inside, I heard little David cry. I smiled at Davey, and he grinned back. I realized he had been crying, too.
"I'm OK," I said, patting his arm across my chest. "I really am."
That night was my last at home before moving in with Davey. And this time, it was Amy who hugged my shoulder and comforted me while we sat on the living room couch.
"I know what it's like to have to move away from home," she said. "I'm so sorry."
From the kitchen, I heard the rattle of pans as Mom washed up from supper. I leaned close to Amy.
"Hey," I said, looking into her green eyes and realizing once again how truly lovely she was becoming, "I'm only moving a couple houses down the street," I said with a smile. "I'm going to have my cake and eat it too. I'm going to get to see you and David as much as I want, and I'll get to live with Davey, which is something the two of us have wanted for a long time. And before too much longer, we'll all be able to live in a bigger house — all of us under one roof."
She nodded and laid her head on my shoulder. "I never thought it'd be like this," she said. "I always thought I'd be at home."
I slipped an arm behind her back and rubbed it. There was no bra strap under her shirt. She didn't wear bras around the house when she might have to nurse David. I tried not to think about that.
"You know, Michael," she said very softly, "if you wanted both of us, it'd be OK with me… really."
"Both of you?" I repeated.
"I'm saying, if you wanted both Davey and me," she whispered, "I'd understand. It's… it's just how you are."
That thought ricocheted around my brain like a trapped tornado. Talk about having your cake and eating it too! I could live with Davey, but have a wife and child… or, I could live with my wife and child, and have Davey as my lover. Or we could all live together, and I take turns in different beds.
But after a moment of weighing all the possibilities, I shook my head. "It couldn't work, Amy."
She sighed. "Maybe not," she agreed, and leaned up to kiss my cheek. "But, I had to at least say it." She rested her chin on my shoulder and stroked my hair. "It's nice for little David and me to be living with you. It's almost like being…" her voice trailed off.
Mom came from the kitchen, and we moved apart on the couch.
David didn't wake for his first feeding until almost 2:00 AM, which meant that if he nursed well, he might sleep the rest of the night. I got up and carefully lifted him from the crib. He was still so tiny… it always surprised me that humans start out so small. I cradled him to my chest, his tiny head snuggled against my neck, and gently swayed back and forth while humming a melody I'd been working on.
Mom claimed that David always got quiet for me, but tonight he was really hungry and was letting the world know with a siren-like cry. I quickly stepped out onto the porch so he wouldn't wake Mom or Amy — especially Amy, because when his crying woke her, her milk would drop down and she'd start leaking, almost automatically.
So I walked out onto the sidewalk. Little David sensed the change; he knew we were outside, and he became quiet as I rocked him. That was good. Didn't want to wake the neighbors.
I began to hum the Largo from the New World Symphony to him. Might as well give him a little culture, I thought. "Hey, Tiger," I said. "Maybe if I don't change the world, you will."
And then I thought about this little person on my shoulder and all the potential his life held, and I smiled. "Maybe I already have changed the world," I said to him.
When I took him in to Amy, she was awake, and lying on her side, waiting. "He went a long time," she said. "I really need for him to nurse."
Even I could smell her leaking milk.
Amy pulled open the top of her robe and took David from me, holding him to her breast. I watched, thinking once more how incredible David was and how beautiful the two of them were when they were like this.
Amy looked up at me. "I'm going to miss you bringing David in at night," she said.
"I'm going to miss doing it," I said quietly.
Amy looked up at me and holding my gaze, she bent her top leg and her robe fell completely open. Then she rolled her hips back and spread her legs slightly.
The choice was clear, and it was a lifetime choice, even if Amy didn't realize it. But the choice had already been made.
I sat down next to her and pulled her robe closed. "I told you, Amy," I said. "I've made a promise to Davey."
She reached into my lap and closed her hand over my shorts-covered package. "Please Michael, I need you."
I backed off the bed. "I can't," I said. "I told you. I made a promise."
She frowned at me; she looked angry. And I remembered the quote: "Hell hath no fury, like a woman scorned." It gave me pause — if Amy ever got really mad at me, she could keep David from me. But looking down at her, all I really felt for her was compassion. She really was all alone.
"Maybe I better go," I said.
"Just lie with me," she said. "After you put David back in his crib, come back and just hold me for a little while. This will be our last night together like this." She looked away from me. "In the same home, you bringing David in to me — almost our own little family," she said in a small voice. Then she looked back, pleadingly. "I promise I won't try to start anything. Just lie down and hold me."
I bit my lip. It would be difficult; maybe very difficult. But I nodded. "I'll try."
When I returned to the room, Amy had pulled the covers up and I climbed on top of them, moving over next to her.
"You can get under the covers," she said. "I pulled on a nightgown."
"It's safer out here," I said, sliding my arm under the back of her head.
Amy moved closer and rested her head on my shoulder. I kissed the top of her hair and we lay quietly, neither sleeping yet.
"Michael," she said softly. "Back when we were making love… I think I wanted you to get me pregnant. Maybe not consciously, but I think that's what happened."
"I'm sorry," she said. "But you know what? I'm not sorry about little David." She looked up at me. "I love him so much, Michael."
I smiled. "We all do, Amy. I'm not sorry about little David either. I'm just sorry I can't be what you want me to be."
"You could," she said softly. "You know you could."
Holding Amy protectively like this with little David sleeping in the next room I knew she was right. "Yeah, I could — but I can't."
The room was quiet except for our breathing and it was a little cool. I tried to tuck my feet into a fold of the bedspread.
"Sometimes I may hate you," she said quietly. "But I'll always love you." She snuggled into my neck. "You always looked so elegant. You always did look like prince charming." Her head moved on my shoulder as she talked. "You don't just look it, Michael — there's something noble about you. You could've taken advantage of me. You could still. And you could certainly take advantage of Davey. But you don't." Her breath tickled my neck as she tilted her head up to look at me. "I hope little David grows up to be like his dad."
Amy freed a hand from under the covers and put it on my chest. "You feel cold. Here." She peeled the bedspread from her side of the bed and rolled it over me, leaving just a sheet and blanket over herself. She wrapped me in the bedspread as well as she could with her free hand and then settled against me again.
"Davey better take good care of you," she said.
"You know he will," I told her. "You picked him as your La Maze coach."
She nodded. "He's almost my best friend now," she said.
Then Amy kissed my bare shoulder. "You take good care of him too."
Amy grew quiet, and her breathing became regular._ It would be so easy to fall in love with her, I thought. Maybe soon, somebody will._
The sun was well up when I heard little David's crying from the living room. He had slept a long, long time. When I came out to get him, Davey was walking little David on his shoulder. He threw an angry glance at me and started to hand little David to me.
"You take him back to Amy," I suggested. And then I leaned closer. "It's not what you think."
He looked skeptical, but headed for the bedroom. Mom came from the kitchen with her cup of coffee. Shit, I thought. I wonder what she's thinking.
Mom didn't make me wait to find out, but looked at me sharply. "I'm assuming nothing happened in there."
"Nothing 'happened' at all, Mom." I said. "Amy was just lonesome and I kept her company. Honest."
Mom nodded. "When I got up this morning, I looked in on Amy. When I saw you in bed with her… well, you almost had a much shorter life." She walked past me with her coffee and paused at the front door before going out onto the porch. "Then I saw how you were sleeping. But Michael…" she paused for a moment, looking steadily at me. "It's good that you're moving out — I'm thinking of Amy."
"Yeah, Mom. I think you're right."
She paused a moment, and then motioned for me to follow her on out. Once on the porch, she set her coffee down on the table and sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to her. I joined her.
"It's just as well that Davey doesn't hear what I have to say," Mom said, turning toward me. She took my hand in hers. "You are a beautiful young man, Michael. And Amy is a lovely girl. When I saw the two of you sleeping together... well if I were to choose a picture for Romeo and Juliet, it would be what I saw this morning. You're a lovely couple, and you have a beautiful son. Amy loves you Michael, and I know you care deeply for her. I'd give my approval for you to marry her in an instant. Anyone else and I'd say they were too young, but not you, Michael. You're already a good dad and you take good care of Amy." Mom looked almost pleadingly into my eyes. "It's not too late, you know."
I patted her hand. "It is too late, Mom," I said, with a sad smile. "Besides, Romeo and Juliet are only fiction."
Mom patted my hand back. "They wouldn't be if you married Amy."
I stood up from the couch and moved towards the front door. "I'm glad you believe so strongly in marriage, Mom," I said with a grin. "Because I do have someone in mind… for someday."
Mom's face brightened for a moment before she realized who I meant. But then her face darkened and I was sorry for what I had said. She turned away, and I opened the door to step inside.
"Michael," she said.
I stopped, but didn't turn to look at her.
"Davey can't ever give you children," she said. "That's what marriage is about, son. Having children, raising a family."
"Oh?" I glanced at her. "Is that why you married Dad — to raise a family? Or did you marry Dad because you loved him, and wanted to spend your life with him?"
"Both," she said, her jaw set.
I let it go. I could keep arguing, but I would only make Mom unhappy. So I nodded, and went inside.
Davey was still back with Amy, so I stretched out on the couch to doze.
I woke when Davey set little David down to change his diaper, and I watched as he skillfully and tenderly did the job.
"It wasn't what you're thinking," I said.
He nodded. "Amy told me." Davey picked little David up and, cradling him in his arms, came to sit beside me.
I sat up and put my arm over his shoulder, and the two of us looked down at little David, who seemed to be trying to bring one hand to his mouth, but kept missing.
"Uncle Davey," I said, and gave his shoulder a hug. He grinned at me, but then his smile faded.
"You're still moving in with me… tonight, right?" he asked, seriously.
"Of course," I answered, surprised.
He looked down at little David, and then back. "We can still come back here every day."
"Of course," I said.
"Mickey," he said, earnestly, "I love you."
I rubbed his back. "I know. And I love you, too."
"More than little David, and Amy, and your mom?"
I put my forehead to his. "Doofus," I said softly. "With all my heart."
A shudder ran through his body.
"Davey," I asked, concerned. "Are you alright?"
He nodded, looking down at little David, and when he looked back at me, his eyes were full of tears. "You love me a lot," he whispered, wonderingly.
I smoothed back his hair and felt my own eyes water. "You mean you didn't know?" I asked with a smile.
He nodded… shook his head… then nodded. He finally smiled as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I love you so much, Mickey."
"I know," I said.
That night, before I left for Davey's house, Amy pulled me aside into her room. "Thank you for last night, Michael. I tried to explain things to your mom."
I shook my head sadly. "She had her hopes up again, I'm afraid."
Amy stroked my cheek. "Well, you can understand, can't you?" Her hand dropped to my chest. "Don't worry about me, though. I understand you." She leaned up and kissed me. "But I'm going to always believe that if you were straight, I would've been your girl."
"You were my girl, Amy," I said, giving her a hug. "If I had been straight, you would have been much more."
She hugged me back, hard. Then we stepped apart. "I better get going," I said. "It's not like I won't be back every day."
Amy nodded, and then gave me a final, impulsive kiss.
Davey was waiting on the porch and helped me by carrying a suitcase. At his house, we headed back to his room. He led me first to his dresser and pulled open the top two drawers. They were empty. "I made room for you," he said, and then pulled open the middle drawer, which was half-empty. Then he took me to the closet; half of it was empty.
"Where did you put everything?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Places."
"You don't have to share your room like this, Davey," I said. "I can leave my clothes in suitcases."
He frowned and taking me by the hand, led me out the bedroom door, closing it behind us. Then as we stood beside it, he took both my hands. "Not my room — our room," he said. "I'm giving it to us, together. When we go in this door… it's our room," he said. "Unless you want it all — I'll give it to you."
I put my forehead to his. "Doofus," I said smiling. "OK, our room."
Davey grinned and still clutching my hand, opened the door and led me inside. "Our dresser," he said, patting the dresser. "Our closet," he said, pointing into the closet.
Then he pulled me beside the bed and lowered his voice. "Our bed." He stepped close to me. "It's finally happening, Mickey. We can sleep together… every night." He pulled me into a tight hug. "Our bed, Mickey. Our room. Our house."
"Now you'll never get away from me," I said with a grin.
"I don't want to," he answered and shoved me back onto the bed, climbing on top of me.
I slept hard that night, with no baby crying for feedings, and didn't awaken the next morning until Davey came into the room carrying a tray of food.
"Breakfast in bed," he announced with a smile, and kicked the door closed behind him. He set the tray down beside me. On it were eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. He had prepared enough for both of us, and climbed up to join me on the bed.
"How do you feel?" he asked as we both dug in.
I looked at his dancing blue eyes and marveled at his ability to smile, even with a mouth full of food. In answer to his question, I grinned and wriggled my eyebrows.
"Davey, this tastes really good! I thought I was the cookin this family!"
He grinned proudly and chewed.
We lay on our sides, facing each other over the tray. I put a foot on his legs and ran it up and down while we ate. Davey fed me a bacon strip, and then I fed him one. When we finished, I licked each of his fingers clean while he giggled.
He took the tray and put it on the floor, pulled off his shorts, then climbed back up beside me in the bed. Placing a hand on my chest, he rubbed, and repeated once more, "Our room!"
I'd just eaten, but I felt a new hunger. It always amazed me that after all our time together; he could so easily make me feel empty and hungry for him. And as I felt that gnawing hunger stir down in my gut, I saw a similar hunger in his eyes for me. We leaned forward to kiss at the same time. I put my hand on his hip. He put his behind my back and we pulled together.
As we wrapped our legs around each other's legs and our arms around each other's bodies, I put my forehead to his. "Our room," I whispered.
"Our bed," he whispered back.
"Our life," I whispered.
He leaned back in my arms and a smile spread across his face. Then he smacked his mouth onto mine and pulled me tight in his arms. We rolled back and forth, pressing our hardening cocks together. And it struck me as rather awesome that after making love to Davey so many times and for so long, it could always seem so hot, so special, so… exciting.
Davey pressed his cheek to mine and clutched me in his arms, his breath fast and hot on my neck. "Our life," he agreed, and then rolled onto his back, pulling me onto him.
We all spent Thanksgiving at Mom's house, and I laid little David in my lap so that he could 'watch' his first Dallas Cowboys game. He mainly watched me, and I watched him more than the game. He was already focusing well and his eyes stayed on my face. More than once I imagined I saw him almost smile.
I don't know about all babies, but little David was beautiful. And he really was sweet. I loved to lay him in my lap, cradled in the crevice between my legs, and play with his little hands and feet.
As Davey watched us, I saw a sad expression cross his face and I decided — someday, somehow, Davey needed to be a daddy, too.
Fred had the building owners remove Carlson-Bentolli's name from the register downstairs and from the door to the office. It was now Carlson-Bentolli's secret 'San Antonio office'. The Friday after Thanksgiving, we had a C-B meeting there.
First, Dr. Meyers ran down the list of imminent contracts for the security software. "The pentagon is sold on it," he said. "Almost every level of the military as well as several government agencies are on board. I estimate that the total for government contracts alone may reach forty million in the first year."
As that soaked in, Ruth talked about the potential for the database software.
"As per your suggestion, Michael," she said, "we've been in negotiation with NBase to use them as a re-seller so that we can take advantage of their installed customer base. They're all for it. They see it as an opportunity to expand their product offering, especially to small consumers. But they still don't understand the potential here, especially in the PC market. I'm willing to bet that within a year or two, their customer base will be our customer base."
Next, Arturo gave us a rundown on development of the products. They still needed more testing — software always needed more testing — but we could push either or both products out the door.
Then I described to everyone the ideas that Davey and I had begun developing for a whole new kind of networking security scheme — one that could be used over the developing nationwide network of government and educational computers. It was a great scheme, and I gave my opinion that it could be the lynchpin for a lot more business.
Ruth shook her head. "Well, I still don't think you should call them 'Nerf-Certs,' no matter how you came up with the idea."
I laughed. "Just our code name for now, Ruth. We can come up with another name."
Davey smiled broadly and winked at me.
Fred came next, describing a new building he'd been looking at for our growing business. He also told the others about his suggestion to Davey and me to build a compound for our families. "At some point," Fred said, "we are going to need bodyguards for the boys." He grinned at Davey and me. "It's becoming a national security issue."
Davey and I looked at each other and shook our heads, laughing.
"Don't laugh," Fred cautioned. "We've already had a couple of trade magazines calling Round Rock to talk to either Mr. Carlson or Mr. Bentolli. We can't keep you guys secret forever."
Ed finished the meeting with a rundown of our financial statement. It was still mainly expenses and potential, but the potential was excellent.
"As I see it," Ed concluded. "The sky's the limit."
We all nodded, and I glanced at Davey, who beamed back at me. The sky really did seem to be the limit — both for our company and us. I just hoped we would manage avoiding storm clouds in that sky.
That afternoon, Tom Richardson arrived with his pickup already loaded with his bags. Maggie, Davey, and I added ours. Davey and I were willing to ride in the back. The police officer side of Tom wasn't completely happy with that, but in the end, he agreed so long as we stayed down. The fact that he would be alone with Maggie in the front seat helped him accept the arrangement.
And so Davey and I rode to Lake Buchanan, huddled together between a few bags and suitcases. The weather turned cool on the way, and we pressed close together. By the time we reached the motel, we were nearly frozen.
Neither Davey nor I had really thought about it ahead of time, and so it surprised us when Tom and Maggie put their bags together in the same room that was across the hall from ours. That put a dampener on Davey's excitement over fishing the next day.
That night in bed, he pouted. "It's not right," he complained, rolling up on his side and frowning at me.
"But Davey," I said, crossing my arms behind my head, "she's been with Tom before. You know that, and you like Tom."
"Why don't they get married?" he asked, and jerked out one of my chest hairs.
"Geez, Davey! It's alright if you're not in the mood tonight, but take it easy."
He jerked out another hair and I sighed. "If you don't like my chest hair, I'll get rid of it."
He pulled another and I tried to scoot away. "I like your chest hair," Davey said. "And I like pulling it."
I rolled onto my stomach, but Davey shoved his hand in under my chest and tried to pinch more hair. I reached down and grabbed a handful of his pubic hair and he froze. "Uh-huh!" I said. "What do you say now, Mister 'I-like-pulling-it'?"
He withdrew his hand and frowned. "They oughta get married."
I couldn't resist. "Maybe," I said, "they're afraid to make a promise."
He glared at me and rolled away.
"Oh, well," I said. "We weren't going to make love tonight anyway."
"We won't now," Davey agreed.
I rolled onto my side behind him and patted his butt. "I'm sorry," I said. "And I'm sorry about Tom and your Mom. Maybe you just need to give them a little time. They like each other a lot."
"Hey," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. "You left a few chest hairs. You can pull them if you want."
He grunted again. "I'll wait till you're sleeping."
The next morning, I stood in front of the mirror, sleepily examined my chest while Davey brushed his teeth. "You left a bunch of hairs," I observed.
Davey left his toothbrush in his mouth, dried his hands and reached over, grabbing half a dozen hairs in the middle of my chest, and jerked.
"Owww!" I howled clutching my chest. I rubbed the pain away and then looked in the mirror. "Well you sure didn't leave much this time. I want you to know, it was hard work growing those hairs!"
Davey reached over and plucked a couple more.
"OK, dammit!" I said. "Enough's enough. I reached into my kit and pulled out my razor and shave cream. Squirting cream into my hand, I spread it between my pecs.
Davey rinsed his mouth and spit. Then he looked at me in the mirror. "What are you doin?"
"I'm going to shave them off so you quit torturing me."
Davey took a towel and wiped my chest. "You belong to me," he said. "Those are my chest hairs and you can't shave them."
We glared at each other. "Are those mine?" I asked, pointing at his pubic hairs.
Davey took a step back and covered his pubes with his hands. "Yeah," he said, cautiously.
I grabbed up the shave cream and razor. "OK, lie down on your back."
His eyes went wide and he backed out of the bathroom laughing, and yelling, "No! No!"
As I followed him out. There was a knocking at the door. "You guys about ready?" Tom called from outside. "The fish are waitin'!"
I set the shave cream and razor down on the dresser. "You pull any more hair," I warned, wagging my finger at Davey, "and I'm going to shave all your pubes off!"
He made a big "O" with his mouth, his eyes twinkling. I huffed and looked for my underwear. Davey walked by and pulled another one of my chest hairs.
"Tonight, you screw-up," I yelled as he disappeared back into the bathroom.
He stuck his ass back out the door and wiggled it.
Bass fishing wasn't the same as red fishing, but we all liked it. The guide we had hired knew the area. He showed us what worked for bass, and managed to find plenty for us to catch.
At lunch, the guide left us at a lakefront restaurant while he refueled. We ate at one of several tables on a covered wooden deck over the water, while a cool breeze off the lake brought with it the faint aroma of lake water.
Next door was a bait and tackle shop and after lunch, Tom wanted to go check it out. Davey quickly volunteered to go with him. But before I could say I wanted to go, too, Maggie reached under the table and grabbed my forearm. "I'll stay with Maggie," I volunteered.
She leaned over as they turned to leave. "Thanks. I wanted them to have some one-on-one time together." I nodded. As we watched them walk away, Tom said something to Davey to make him laugh. He turned in profile and I got to see Davey's beautiful face and his beautiful butt at the same time.
"He's become an awfully handsome young man," Maggie said.
I blushed, realizing my stare had been obvious. "It's in the genes," I told her, grinning.
"Not everything he's become is in the genes," she said, patting my arm. "You know how grateful I am that he's growing up with you."
"Sometimes you embarrass me," I said. "Like when you told my Grandpa that Davey learned how to be strong from me. I mean, how does that make Davey feel? Especially when he knows how weak I've been."
"You haven't been weak, Michael. You have real character and strength of will." Then she winked at me. "And don't think I haven't told Davey he's been good for you, too."
"Maybe you should tell me that more — in front of him," I said. "For example, if Davey's learned how to be strong from me, tell us what you think I've learned from him."
She looked at me in surprise. "Why, Michael! Davey taught you how to be good."
I frowned. "What does that mean?"
"Do you really want to know?" she asked quietly.
I considered it, and then nodded.
Maggie took a sip of iced tea, composing her thoughts. "Michael," she said and ran her fingertip around the top of the glass. "You are a very handsome and extraordinarily brilliant young man. It would be easy for you to be arrogant. Especially you, Michael. You have tendencies that way and you know it. Some of the same things in your character that make you strong, also make it easy for you to be smug — make you think you're better than other people. But you don't, and I think Davey is why."
She looked up at me and rested her chin on her elbow. "Have you ever noticed that one reason you two are so close is that you admire each other so much? You admire Davey's happiness and his goodness. Davey could so easily be resentful of his disabilities or the way people treat him. But he's not; he's just not like that. He has a pure heart, and you love him for it."
I nodded. "I worship him for it. Maggie, the way he smiles, the way he always smiles… he has something I don't have — maybe can never have on my own — but he gives it to me… when he smiles at me, he gives me his happiness."
Maggie gave me the smile of a fellow Davey lover, then leaned closer. "And Davey adores you, Michael. His mind has strength, but you know how hard it is for him. You've seen how frustrating it can be for him to learn even simple things. He's always envied your intellect, and he admires your character. And you respect him — a man needs that; even a young one. Oh, and there is one other thing that makes you special to him." She smiled tenderly. "As strong and as intelligent as you are, Michael, you need him. And it would be so easy for Davey not to be needed."
"I do need him," I acknowledged. "I want to spend my life with him, Maggie."
"I know," Maggie shook her head sadly. "I know you two are in love. But give it time. Don't push so hard. You and Davey haven't nearly finished growing physically, much less emotionally. You're not anywhere close to being the men you'll become. Oh, you're mature for your age, and in some ways, Davey is, too. But neither of you are ready to take on the responsibilities of an adult relationship."
Maggie sighed. "I think you should both date girls." Then she leaned forward and patted my arm. "Michael, take your time. You're only sixteen. Life has a long way to go."
And the day had a long way to go. After spending the afternoon back out on the lake, we napped before supper. We were so tired that Davey and I even slept on separate beds.
I woke first and looked over to his bed where he lay sleeping on his stomach; his face flattened by the pillow. Quietly, I got up, turned the TV on and lay down next to him. As I watched his face, waiting for him to wake up, I wondered how long we would have to wait to be ready for 'the responsibilities of an adult relationship,' as Maggie had said.
Looking at him, I decided that I could wait forever. I could handle two-week promises strung together for the rest of our lives, if that's what we needed to do. The only thing that frightened me was the possibility that someday, Davey could decide he wanted other lovers before 'settling down.' I didn't want to think about that.
Reaching over, I squeezed his shoulder. "Old man… it's time to wake up."
He frowned, without opening his eyes.
"Come on, Davey. I need you to smile so I can wake up, too."
His frowned deepened and he opened one, glaring eye at me.
"Not going to smile?" I asked.
He clamped both eyes closed and frowned even harder.
"You can sleep tonight while I shave your pubes."
He fought it, but a smile spread over his face.
"There you go. Now I'm awake."
Davey opened his eyes. "Just remember," he said, grinning, "your pubes belong to me."
"I still say you were inordinately proud of the fact that you caught the most fish today. It was unseemly," I said as I lifted his cock to look for hairs underneath and spread more shave cream around the base.
"You're just jealous," Davey said, spreading shave cream up my cock. "That's unseemly."
"What are you doing down there?" I asked, looking down the bed to where Davey spread shave cream over my balls.
"I'm being thorough," he said, letting my cock flop, and then lifting it to let it flop again. "You're gonna look almost like you did when we first started rubbing… no pubes." He flopped my cock once more.
"You better be careful. You're going to start something," I said. "I'm really horny."
"I'm hornier," he said.
"OK," I said, taking up the razor and lifting his cock. "I'll make sure you cum more than me."
"I'll make you cum more," Davey said, lifting his razor.
I paused a second. "How about a contest?" I asked, grinning at him. "I bet I can make you cum more. But you have to play fair. We take turns. Whoever makes the other cum the most times wins."
Davey laughed. "I'll win. You love my butt."
"And you don't like mine?" I asked with a hurt face.
He placed the razor at the edge of my pubes, and then looked up at me. "We could set a record."
"Most times in a night? We've never tried that," I said pausing. "It'd have to be at least five times each… I think we've already done four times each."
Davey began shaving me. "I'll make you cum five times," he promised.
We finished wiping off the shave cream and stood facing each other. The effect was stunning. Davey's missing pubic hair made his cock look even thicker and longer, and his belly looked damned sexy.
"Wow!" Davey exclaimed, looking at me.
"No shit!" I agreed. "Sorta weird, looking so smooth and all, but…"
"Hot," he said, stepping forward to wrap his hand around my cock. "Very hot."
I wrapped my hand around his. "Makes me want to…"
"Suck it," he completed the sentence with me.
We moved closer, stroking each other and feeling up our bald pubic areas. "Damn," I whispered.
Davey pulled both our erections straight up and pressed himself against me. We stared down between our bodies at two thick cocks pointing up from nothing but skin.
"They would taste like shave cream," I observed.
Davey put his hands on my waist and ground our cocks together. "Rub first?" he asked without looking up at me.
"Definitely," I said, grinding back, my hands on his shoulders.
Neither of us made a move for a bed, but watched our cocks rise and fall from where their bases pressed together. Finally, Davey looked up at me and pulling my waist tighter, kissed me hard.
He backed me to the bed, where I clambered up to the middle and opened my arms and legs in invitation. Davey, cock wagging, moved forward and lowered his body on to mine. His hair brushed my forehead as he planted his elbows under my arms and situated his hips between my enfolding legs.
His blue eyes were hungry as he lowered his lips to my lips and as soon as his body rested on mine, we began humping in earnest.
I roamed the hard muscles of his back with my hands, pressing my palms flat against them to feel the muscles flexing as he pumped his hips. His balls hung loosely down on mine and with each thrust, our scrotums pressed together.
Davey opened his mouth on my neck and I could feel his teeth as he sucked. "Oh damn!" I gasped, feeling myself already drawing close. "It's been too long."
I grabbed his butt and tried to think how long it had been since we had sex, just to get my mind off the pleasant sensations. Thursday night, I thought. It had been Thursday night.
Suddenly Davey whimpered, and planting his hands on the bed under my armpits, he pushed his torso up, putting more weight on his hips as he ground circles on mine. I clutched his butt harder and cried out as first my cum, then his, shot up over my chest and neck.
We relaxed slowly, Davey lowering his body back onto mine.
"We can't rest now," I whispered. "Next we each cum frotting with you on the bottom."
"OK," he said, chewing on my ear. "But after that, I want a Coke."
"And a shower," I said.
Even though the shower was warm and relaxing, by the time I finished scrubbing his back, I was hard, and ready to go for my third orgasm. Rubbing my cock up and down his crack, I leaned close to his ear. "Wanna turn off the water and bend over just a little bit?"
He giggled and wagged his butt back against me. "I told you — you love my butt."
"Yeah," I said as he turned off the faucet and bent over in front of me. "But you have to take a turn next."
I ran a hand admiringly over his butt and pushed into the back of his balls with my cock.
"Umm," he said, then cleared his throat. "I'll be ready."
We watched the last fifteen minutes of the late movie sitting crotch to crotch with our legs over each other. Davey had lubed me and made me hard, and I'd done the same to him.
"What next?" he asked.
"Whatever you want," I said, running my fingertip over his sensitive crown.
His eyes rolled up and he moaned. Then he lowered his eyes back to mine, put both hands on my shoulders, and pushed me back.
I brought my knees up as my back hit the sheets and Davey quickly knelt at my butt. He pressed the tip of his cock against my hole and slipped just the end in, slowly. Then pulled out. Then slipped the end in again.
"Are you having fun?" I asked, holding up my legs with a hand under each knee.
He nodded and grinned at me, still popping the end of his cock in and out of my behind.
"Well, if that turns you…"
Davey suddenly plunged in to the hilt.
"Oh, shit!" I gasped.
He pulled all the way out and watched my face until I looked at him, then his eyes on mine, he plunged all the way in again.
"Oh, damn!" I groaned.
He pulled all the way out again, and grinned when I frowned at him.
"Just remember, your turn is next," I warned.
Davey grinned and shoved all the way in. Then pushing up under my knees with his shoulders, he grabbed my legs and began long, powerful thrusts. He moved forward over me, lifting my butt higher, sharpening his angle down into me, and picked up his pace. I was thinking that if he got my butt any higher, I'd be sucking myself off, which might not be a bad idea.
I was getting hot again, just watching all the muscles of his belly and torso working and his face screwed up in pleasure. On top of that, his cock was doing great things inside me, and I wondered if his fourth orgasm might bring on my own.
"It's gonna fall off," I complained. "You keep sucking like that and it's gonna fall off."
He sucked even harder, and I returned to sucking him. I couldn't blame him. Even after five orgasms, oral sex without pubic hair was an absolute turn-on.
"What time is it?" He asked.
I lifted my mouth from his crotch and rubbed my tired, sore jaw as I looked at the clock. "Just a little after four in the morning."
"Ooooh, let me go to sleep."
"No way," I told him. "I came a seventh time, you've got to come a seventh time, too."
"I came twice last time and you called it six. It was six and seven."
"No, you only came once. Come on, just one more time. You can do it."
"You sucked all my insides out last time," he groaned.
"Do you really want to give up?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm so tired," he groaned, and then he bit his lip, thinking. "Are you hard?"
"Because if you can get hard and frot me, maybe that'll work."
"Seriously?" I asked.
He nodded. "You know I like frot best. I like your body on mine."
Exhaustedly, I moved around so that Davey could suck my cock while I sucked his, at least until I was hard. Once I was, he opened his legs to me and I settled between them, my hard cock next to his and our balls pressed together. Davey sighed and closed his eyes.
"Don't go to sleep now," I said in a loud voice and ground my hips on him.
Davey smiled, and grabbed my butt without opening his eyes. He ground back up against me and I moved my hips forward and back.
Davey let me do most of the work. I watched his face so as to judge which moves felt best for him, and concentrated on those. I worked hard, grinding my tired body against his, but it wasn't so bad. I was giving him pleasure; I could tell as his look grew more and more serious and his brow furrowed.
He moaned and adjusted his hips under me, grabbing a fresh hold on my butt. I sucked up my gut and bent from my hips as far as I could on each thrust, pressing forward until our balls firmly pressed back against his perineum. I was half-beginning to believe I could go for an eighth orgasm myself, and the thought almost cost me my hard-on.
Davey's head arched back and his mouth opened. I pumped harder, grinding my hips, and pressing my belly hard against the underside of his cock. I pushed my shoulders up off the bed to put more pressure at our middles and slid myself up and down on his erection.
Davey cried out loudly when at last his orgasm hit, and his fingers clawed into my butt. At the very end, he held me so tightly against his crotch that I thought he'd pull my butt apart.
When he was done, I collapsed onto him and then rolled off to the side. My cock was almost deflated before I made it onto my back. "My mouth is sore," I said with a groan. "My butt is sore. My cock is sore. Even my balls are sore. I'm not sure I even want to touch you. No more sex for me for a month."
"Me, either," Davey agreed.
I took a deep breath and rolled my head to look at him. "Wanna go for eight?"
He glared at me and I wriggled a couple of tired eyebrows.
He groaned and turned away, and I chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. "Davey," I said thoughtfully, "I think I'll always remember tonight."
"Good," he grumbled. "Cause we aren't doing it again."
I chuckled and rolled to my side, backing my butt up to his. "No," I said. "Not again. We'll leave this special."
Davey reached back and patted my butt. And then I fell asleep, my back comfortably against his.
The cold air blasted over us as we passed an eighteen-wheeler. Davey spooned me in the back of the pickup. "I told you," I yelled over the road noise, "no more sex for a month!"
"I'm not horny," he yelled. "I'm cold."
"Maybe we ought to move up front," I suggested.
"Nah, I'd rather be cold back here, hugging you." And he snuggled closer.
I rolled to face him, unzipped my jacket and unzipped his. Then I ran my arm around him inside his jacket, and he wrapped his around me inside mine, and we pulled tightly together with a bag under our heads for a pillow. "Better?" I asked close to his ear.
I was exhausted after the night before but he felt good in my arms, and his arms around me were comforting. No matter how tired I was, it never failed to excite me at least a little when his package pressed against mine.
He put his mouth to my ear. "No sex for a month? You sure?" he asked.
"Maybe not a month," I said hugging back. "Just give me a day or two."
Davey laughed in my ear and snuggled closer. Then he laid his head back down onto the bag with mine and we looked into each other's eyes, our hair blowing furiously about our heads. He gave me a tired smile and closed his eyes.
I watched his face relax as he began to drift off to sleep. And then I closed my eyes, almost comfortable in the warmth of his body. I smiled. "Damn, seven times," I said out loud.
Davey gave me a squeeze. I looked and though his eyes were still closed, he was smiling. I squeezed back, closed my eyes again, and fell asleep.
We had been virtually living together for years, but now, sharing the same room with all of our belongings still took some adjustment. On Wednesday morning, I snapped at him for leaving clothes all over the place, and he snapped at me for snapping at him.
At lunchtime I pulled him aside as we were about to go into the cafeteria. "I'm taking you out on a date tonight," I told him.
Davey gave me a surprised smile.
"We gotta get out," I explained. "I'm going to take you out to eat and then we're going to a movie where I'm going to feel you all up."
"I want Burger King," he said.
"I'm taking you out to eat and you want Burger King?"
He wriggled his eyebrows. "And a movie."
"And a movie," I agreed, wriggling mine back.
Burger King was a blast. We played back and forth with our feet under the table while we ate. Then we played arcade games. Afterwards, in the car, we cleaned each other's teeth with our tongues, which was a challenge because of the giggling.
The theater was in a mall, and while we waited for the next show time, we strolled into a men's clothing store. Davey and I drifted to opposite sides of the underwear department. When I found some stretchable terrycloth bikini briefs, I headed for the register with a dark red pair, hiding it from Davey. "Stay away," I told him when he looked my way.
I had the clerk bag the briefs so Davey couldn't see what I'd purchased. Then Davey chased me from the department while he bought something.
We each held onto our bags through the movie and waited until we were home before we exchanged them. Davey giggled in anticipation as he opened his. Inside mine were black, silk boxers.
We turned our backs to each other to strip and pull on our new underwear. I made sure the boxers rode low on my waist and resisted the stiffening in my cock until Davey could see me. We counted to three and turned.
He was magnificent. The color of the briefs brought out the creaminess of his skin. They were so low they barely covered the stubble at his pubes and I could clearly see the "V" formed by his abdominal muscles as they plunged into his crotch. His package was almost obscenely full with a near-hard erection, and his legs were long and elegantly smooth below.
Our hands were drawn to each other like magnets and we were soon face to face, feeling each other's new underwear. "Davey," I said, my voice thick, "we're definitely going out on more dates."
And so, Davey and I began dating.
We ate outside that Sunday at Ed's house. A cool front had passed through San Antonio and brought with it dry air and temperatures in the lower seventies. Debbie and Kim sat with Amy in the shade of a tree and took turns holding little David, while Ed, Chase, Hunter, Davey, and I played touch football.
Davey and I pulled off our shirts to be skins against the Armstrongs.
"Damn," Ed said. "What kind of workouts are you guys doing? You both look like models from an Ab-buster commercial."
I resisted the temptation to tell him my favorite workout, though I caught Chase smirking behind his dad's back. "Just weights and running," I said. "Oh, and we burn lots of calories thinking about computer programs."
"Yeah, right," Ed laughed. "Nerf-certs, huh?"
Then from the corner of my eye, I noticed Hunter staring at Davey's naked torso. Chase saw it, too. I saw him frown.
It only took a few minutes before Ed commented that whatever our exercise had been, it did not involve throwing around a ball. Davey and I were not doing well.
Nevertheless, every chance I got, I swung by the ladies with a football and showed it to little David. "This is a football. Can you say foot… ball?"
One time, he burped and I cheered. "Close enough!"
The ladies shook their heads.
After forty-five minutes, we broke for sodas and sat on the grass to drink them. Ed asked about the network security project and I told him how it was going. "I plan to work after school every afternoon this week," I promised.
"But the weather's too nice," Davey said. "I wanna work on landscaping!"
"You can work on landscaping," I said. "I'll work in the office. I'm almost done. It won't take me long."
"I can help Davey," Hunter offered.
There was brief, awkward silence. Then Davey shook his head. "No, it's OK… just small stuff. I can do it myself."
"Well," Ed said, getting to his feet. "Let's get back to the game. Why don't we switch the teams around a little — the three of us against Michael and Chase."
Later, after the others had gone inside, Chase and I sat next to each other on the low brick perimeter wall of the back porch. We talked about the Dallas Cowboys, Chase's latest romantic interest, and a dozen other things. It had grown dark when Chase put his arm over my shoulder and leaned close.
"Bent, you and Davey are still real tight, right?"
"Yeah," I answered, smiling. "Why, are you coming on to me?"
"Asshole," Chase growled, laughing, and shoved me.
I shoved back and we ended up wrestling each other off the low brick wall and into the grass. Chase was strong, but I still managed to pin him, my chest flattening his face. When he gave up, I rolled off onto my back and we lay there, looking up at the stars, catching our breath.
"Bentolli, you asshole," Chase said, as his breathing returned to normal. "I was askin' about you and Davey for a reason."
"OK. What reason?"
He rolled up on his side and plucked a blade of grass. "I was thinkin' that maybe I should sorta explain things to Hunter. You don't need him jackin' off with Davey if you two are as serious as you say."
"Would he even think about that?" I asked, surprised. "After what your dad said?"
Chase shrugged. "You know Hunter. He's quiet sometimes, but he does what he wants to do."
Davey and I had just renewed our two-week promise the night before and I really wasn't worried. Still, it couldn't hurt. "I think Hunter knows," I said. "But go ahead and remind him."
The back door of the house opened and Davey walked out onto the porch looking for us.
"Over here," Chase said.
"Amy's getting tired," Davey said, finding us. "Time to go."
Late Tuesday afternoon I was alone in our office, just cleaning up my desk and getting ready to head home, when Davey burst in. He wore only shorts and shoes and was breathing hard.
"Did you run over here?" I asked.
He nodded, coming directly to me. He pushed my chair back from the desk and swiveled me toward himself. Sitting astride my lap, he began pulling up my shirt. "I need you now," he said.
"Damn," I said, laughing. "You must really be horny to run all the way here."
"Yep," he said, pulling my shirt over my head. Then he bent to kiss me and rubbed my pecs hard.
I was instantly turned on, kicking off my shoes and running my hands into the back of his shorts. Davey stood up and pulled me to my feet, undoing my belt and pushing down my pants almost faster than I pushed down his shorts.
He grabbed me up in his arms, kissing me hungrily and pressing our cocks between us. His hands dropped to my butt and pulled me hard, spreading my butt cheeks with his grip.
"Oh, damn," I said taking a breath. "You're hot!"
Davey was rock-hard and I was getting there. Turning me, he bent me over the desk.
"Hold on a sec," I said, laughing breathlessly. I reached into the back of my top right drawer and pulled out the new type of lube Knox had told us about, handing it to Davey.
I bent back over the desk as he lubed himself and then me. He pulled my cock down between my legs and stroked it, fondling my balls. His fingers traced up the inside of my legs and up onto my butt. And then he was behind me, pushing in.
"Wow," I managed to say. "Whatever's gotten into you, I love it!"
Davey grabbed my waist, made a couple of slow penetrations, and then began to pound into me. I reached down and lifted my cock up onto the desk so it could rub on the desktop, as Davey racked both of us with his thrusts.
I lowered my hips a little, helping Davey hit the right spots, and he did. And then Davey's cock began to feel really, really good.
Normally we tried to wait for each other. However, Davey was on fire and nothing was going to slow him down. But what he was doing inside me was nothing less than sensational; I wanted to cum, too, and reached under to stroke myself.
His pounding became frantic, and soon he was crying out. When I felt his cock throbbing inside me, I stopped my stroking. I could wait to cum.
But then he just stayed there, buried in me to the hilt while I was bent over the desk. He pulled out half way and slowly pushed back in.
"You going again?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.
"I'm thinking about it," he said and began to move again. He reached under my chest and pulled me upright, kissing my neck and chewing my ear. Then he wrapped both arms around my waist and lifted me from the floor, still impaling me, and carried me to the couch.
He slipped out when he dropped me onto my stomach, but he was quickly on me again and buried himself inside. His body writhed and ground on mine, and the feel of him, naked and sweaty, kept me hot.
"Oh, shit," I groaned. "You're a wild man."
He paused and left off nibbling my ear. "Am I hurting you?" he asked.
"No," I moaned. "Not really… go for it!"
And he did, bouncing me into the couch and chewing all over my neck, my ears and the back of my head until he came again, and ended by finally collapsing on me.
As his cock began to soften, he wrapped his arms under my chest and hugged me hard.
"You going to tell me what got into you?" I asked, grinding my still-hard cock into the couch.
"You won't get mad?" he asked.
"Well, probably not, I like the result."
His mouth was at my ear. "I love you so much!"
"So what happened?" I asked, beginning to wonder if something was wrong.
Davey took a deep breath, and lying there, on top of my back, he told me that he had been working in his back yard after school, setting stone pavers, when Hunter showed up and offered to help.
Davey wasn't sure about the idea, but agreed, and Hunter took off his shirt to pitch in. But then he kept bumping shoulders with Davey. At one point, he bent over Davey to pick up a hand trowel, pressing his bare chest to Davey's back. Staying there, he rubbed Davey's butt.
Davey stood up and backed away. "Hunter, I can't. Mickey and I promised each other. No sex with anyone else."
Hunter stepped closer. "Mickey doesn't care. He knows about us, right? He never said we couldn't mess around a little; it's not like it's real sex, Davey."
Davey shook his head. "No, I promised. Besides, your dad said I had to protect you."
Hunter stepped closer. "Dad won't know. And we don't have to tell Michael, either. It's been ages since we did anything together. I'm really horny, Davey. Help me out. Please. Look…" He took Davey's hand and pressed it against the front of his shorts. Hunter's cock was rock-hard. "I really need to."
Then Hunter pressed his own hand against the front of Davey's shorts. "See, you're hard too. You want to do it. Come on. Just a quickie. You can fuck me and I'll fuck you. Just for fun." Hunter squeezed Davey's cock and leaned forward to kiss him.
Davey stumbled back, but Hunter followed. "C'mon, Davey. I'll suck you first." He tried reaching into Davey's shorts.
"No. Stop it, Hunter," Davey said, stepping back farther. "I belong to Michael."
Hunter looked around. There was no one about, and no one could see over Davey's fence. Hunter stepped back a foot and loosened his pants, pushing them down until his cock sprang free. Then he turned his bare butt to Davey and pulled open his cheeks. "C'mon, Davey. Do me!"
Davey didn't move.
Hunter let his pants fall to the ground and turned toward Davey, cock wagging. Stepping forward, his cock nearly touching Davey, he reached for Davey's waistband.
Davey grabbed his hands firmly. "Stop, Hunter. You're my best friend, don't… don't do this! I promised Mickey and I'm not going to hurt him again," he said. "Not ever.
"That's just it, Davey. We're buddies. It's not like I'm trying to steal you from Michael. C'mon. We do this all the time."
Gripping Hunter's hands even more tightly and holding him away, Davey shook his head. "Not any more. He loves me, Hunter, and I love him." And then Davey's face brightened. "We love each other."
Davey let go of Hunter's wrists and backed away, with a bemused smile. "Oh wow!" he said, almost to himself, and then looked back up at Hunter. "It's awesome, Hunter. It's really… awesome."
Hunter stared at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about.
Then Davey returned to Hunter, took his face into both hands and gave Hunter a big kiss on the mouth. "Thank you!" he said, sprinting for the gate to the front yard. "Oh wow! I did it! I said no!"
"Where are you goin'?" Hunter yelled, angrily.
Davey stopped at the corner of the house and looked back with a smile. "I've gotta find Mickey." His eyes dropped to Hunter, pantless and with a deflating cock, and he grinned. "Guess you better not follow me."
Since I had the car, Davey had to jog over to the office, which wasn't all that far. By the time he reached the building, he was fighting a growing erection.
He kissed the side of my face. "I didn't do it, Mickey. I kept our promise. I kept it! All I kept thinking about was you — the whole time." He kissed over the back of my neck.
"You chose me," he said. "You coulda had Amy and little David. You gave up everything for me, even after I hurt you so bad." He wrapped his arms under my neck and nuzzled behind my ear. "Hunter tried to… seduce me. And all I could think about was you. And then I… I understood, Mickey! That's what I need to do to stay faithful: just think about you!"
Davey kissed my neck once more, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "And then, all of a sudden, I wanted you real bad." He nibbled my ear and his breath warmed my cheek. "I brought it to you," he whispered. "Today I was faithful and I brought it to you as a gift… just like you said."
I rolled over under him and looked up into his happy face. "You just left him there?" I asked with a chuckle. "With his pants down and his cock going soft?"
He paused. "Yeah. Was that mean?"
I laughed and squeezed him hard. "Hunter might not be happy, but damn, I am!" I smiled up at him. "You're incredible, Davey," I whispered. My cock was still hard and pressed between our bellies, but the real swelling was in my heart. "Just incredible," I repeated. "I really need to 'open' my gift. Can I?" I asked, wriggling my eyebrows.
I rolled him into the back of the couch and lifted his top leg up onto my hip. Then I kissed him again as I wiped my fingers in the crack of my butt to pick up extra lube and rubbed it into his crack. With my eyes locked on his, I put spit on my cock, guided it to his hole, and pushed in.
"Damn, I love you!" I said, taking him into my arms as I pushed forward with my hips. I pushed farther in with each thrust until he threw his head back, showing the muscles and veins in his neck. I pressed my mouth to his throat, groaning as I pumped and felt his tightness travel even farther down my cock. Hugging him tightly to me, I bent hard at my hips, trying to join with him as deeply as I could. Davey gripped my shoulders tightly and arched his back, gasping. He would enjoy this as well.
I hated to wake him, lying across me on the couch. But Amy had fixed supper. We'd be late, but we could still eat some so that she wouldn't feel like she cooked it for nothing. I put my hand on his bicep. He had strong arms. But today he showed more than just physical strength. And I realized that because he had been strong, I would be stronger myself.