After the others had departed, Justin collapsed in "his" chair and said, "Babe, it has been one helluva day. I don't look forward to any more like it."
"Makes two of us. Did you see Mr. Sanford after he was at the hospital?"
"I did. He told me about taking Adam in handcuffs to see Sandy, and Adam's reaction. Terrible thing to do to Adam and it must really have been hell for Mr. Sanford, but, as he told me, Adam has always been protected from the consequences of his actions. 'Wouldn't have thought of doing it except for Marc's comment about understanding the sheriff's anger if I saw Sandy. That and the fact that you told me there was good stuff in Adam. I guess I failed to recognize it, but he's been pretty careful to hide it as well -- like this episode.' Anyway, when Mr. Sanford came by the store, he definitely had mixed emotions. He was ready to strangle Adam for having any part in what happened to Sandy and at the same time, he was pretty sure we were right about there being good inside Adam and hopeful the visit had brought it out. We'll see. Oh, and he did say he and Mrs. Sanford would visit Adam in jail. He didn't say it, but I think that is as much for her as for either Mr. Sanford or Adam."
"I am hoping the nightmare is over, but I suspect it's not."
"Yeah, I expect there are several more acts to this drama. I guess whatever develops, develops." We were both silent for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts, then Justin said, "Now it's play time," grinned and motioned for me to come to him. As I started toward him, he sang, "Baby, I need your lovin'" and, laughed. "Mrs. James can't get the hang of the elevator music system at the store. It's ancient, especially compared with the one in the new store. Anyway, today she had gotten sick of the easy listening tape before I arrived. It had been running its endless loop for several days and she decided to change it. Put in a new loop which had problems. It got hung up on a sixties-seventies track and we must have heard 'Baby I Need Your Lovin'' at least six times tonight. The tape would get hung up, Mrs. James would bang on the player with her fist, it would rewind and play the same track over. She tried to change the tape, but it was also stuck. She banged on the machine and, as every time before, it started over. This time with..." Justin sang, "Baby, I need your lovin'" as he pulled me into the chair with him.
Last night Justin had brought up the fact that we were usually so hot and ready, our lustful eagerness resulted in a quickie. Of course, most of the time that first orgasm was followed by a later one which, simply because physically we weren't as ready to go, was not a quickie. But, as Justin said, we started with a rush and everything was over in a flash. Tonight started out the same way for me, with my grabbing Justin's shirt to rip it off over his head. As I did, Justin took my hands and said, "Easy, baby, easy," and started undressing me slooowly, sliding his hands under my shirt and gradually pushing it up. As soon as my stomach was exposed, he leaned forward, pulled me toward him and started tonguing my belly button, which he knew really turned me on. He used his hard, pointed tongue in it as he continued to move my shirt up my body. As he did, he kissed and tongue-washed my bare skin as it was exposed.
When he finally had my shirt high enough to expose my nipples, he started working on them with mouth and tongue, then started licking from nipple to underarm. Hot! Hot! Hot! I was streaming precum. I had never been hotter or harder then when Justin slipped my shirt over my head. Justin was lying back in his chair and I was lying between his legs, atop him. He covered my mouth with his, plunging his tongue between my open lips and deep into my mouth. Our lips stayed joined as Justin began breathing through my mouth.
He put his hands on my hips, pushing up to indicate I should raise them and when I did, he unzipped my shorts, and pushed them down my legs where they finally fell to my ankles. I expected my precum-soaked briefs to follow, but Justin massaged my cock through them. Continuing to play with my cock, which was straining its cotton-spandex prison, his tongue was back in my mouth. Slow and easy was great -- to a point, and I think I was just about to get beyond that point. Marc Junior was definitely aching to get outside and play! Sensing that, Justin pushed me up on my feet and stood in front of me, slipped his hands in the front of my briefs, freeing my manhood, then slid my snow-white briefs down my legs. As he knelt, staring my cock in the eye, he looked up, smiled, and engulfed its rock hardness in his hot mouth. I had just thought I wanted my manhood outside. Inside was much better! Especially when the inside playground was Justin's hot mouth!
I'd like to say that it was another half hour before Marc Junior was satisfied, but it was only minutes after Justin took me into his mouth that he was rewarded with a mouthful of hot seed -- then some! He continued ministering to me with his tongue and mouth until I simply couldn't stand it any longer, I was so sensitive. When I reached down and lifted Justin from his knees and covered his mouth with mine, I tasted me. "You taste better than I do," I whispered.
"Depends on who's doing the tasting," he grinned and I kissed him again.
"Then I guess you need to add something to this taste contest!"
Our love-making continued in a slow and soft mode, but it could not be as slow and soft as it had been when Justin was making love to me. Justin had been hard and hot for over an hour and just couldn't hold out for another one. Well, that's not quite true since after we had had recuperation time, he enjoyed an hour of my love-making before he gave me the gift of his seed a second time. And Justin does taste better!
It was 1:00 in the morning before we, exhausted, fell into each other's arms and slept. We were sleeping so soundly Thursday morning that we slept though the raucous sound of the alarm clock. We must have been half dead because the alarm was a radio/CD player and played for fifteen minutes before the alarm did the beep-beep-beep thing and the CD was not easy listening. Nevertheless, Clarisa had to come up and get us out of bed.
Downstairs, Clarisa just shoved steaming cups of coffee toward us without speaking. After we had finished half a cup, she said, "Ok, I guess you're beginning to rejoin the human race. I may not be here this evening when you get home. You're having dinner at the Thurmonds' and I may still be out with Amy Louise and the Brigade of Little Old Blue-Haired Ladies," Clarisa chuckled and continued, "Some of us are not little, some not old, none of us have blue hair, but that jackass of an editor at the 'Bugle' said he didn't have time for a brigade of little old blue-haired ladies when several of us went to talk to him about what he had published in the 'Town Crier.' Did you know the 'Bugle' publishes both? I didn't, but now I do and that means we can focus and not split into two groups. There's going to be some changes made in both, you can bet on that!" I didn't say so, but with Clarisa and Amy Louise on the warpath, I'd not bet a plugged nickel against them.
On the way to school, we went by the hospital to check on Sandy and met Dr. Macon coming down as we were on the way up. "How's our boy doing?" Justin asked.
"Actually, he's in much better shape than I expected," he replied. "I'm always amazed at how quickly the young recover from injury. I worried about internal injuries but, aside from bruising, there were no serious ones. As I said, he's in better shape than I expected. He's free to go this afternoon."
"Great! Someone will be here for him," Justin said.
"If you make it by 4:30 it will go easier getting him released. I'll have everything ready after I check him when I make afternoon rounds so the only hurdle will be the business office. People there are much nicer just before it's time to start thinking about leaving for home for the day."
When we got to Sandy's room, John was there. "Hear you get released this afternoon," Justin said to Sandy as we entered.
"So I've been told and John says I'll be going home with him. Almost all set."
"So what's lacking?" I asked.
"Well, is it still warm enough for me to go like this?" Sandy asked as he threw the sheet off his body. He was definitely smiling as he waved a hand over his young, bruised body.
"No problem," John said. "While it's nice and warm outside, and even with those bruises it's a pretty nice body if I do say so, I guess you need to cover it up or the girls will grab you and and haul you off to their cave and do womanly things with you. Think I can get something for you... a thong, maybe."
"Think a good-looking boy would grab me and take me off to his cave to do manly things with me?" Sandy definitely had a great sense of humor. I was really learning to like this guy!
"Probably the entire football team," Dr. Macon, who had returned to the room, commented with a smile. I hope he didn't see the stricken look which crossed Sandy's face for a moment at the mention of the football team.
"Doctor, could we make that the wrestling team?" Sandy grinned, then suddenly noticed that Susan had come in with Dr. Macon and quickly covered himself, embarrassed. "Sorry, Susan" he said, sheepishly. Susan just nodded.
Shortly afterward, we headed to school with John and Susan right behind us in Susan's T-Bird. We reached the parking lot just in time to see Kenneth drive up in John's BMW, Bobbie sitting close -- as close as the car permitted. As Justin said about my car, "Cars with bucket seats and a center console are not made for romance."
Kenneth got out of the car, went around and opened Bobbie's door, extending his hand to her. She took it and the two walked toward us, holding hands and looking like they had been a couple for months. "Thought you were out of school this week, Kenneth. What's with showing up when you don't have to?" I asked.
He grinned, put his arm around Bobbie, held her close and said, "I have my reasons." The guy was either moving in fast for a kill or had been seriously bitten by the love bug, or both!
With the hospital visit, we were later than usual getting to school and the bell had rung just as John and Susan had arrived, so we all headed for our lockers in a rush. No problems with lockers, notes, or signs today. Wonder why not?
It was Thursday after four of the football players had been taken from school in handcuffs and Thursday before the prom Saturday. Translation: Don't expect anything to get done academically today. Mrs. Powers apparently had not heard the message and decided, good choice, today would be a good day to talk about the civil rights of those picked up by the police. She started by establishing that the four arrested had been over eighteen and asked what difference that made.
"Well, it means they are adults," John said, "and, therefore, no longer subject to juvenile court, but regular adult court."
"Anyone know what that is called?"
Mary Lou Jamison, a very quiet, excellent student spoke up and said, "They have reached the age of majority. That's defined as the chronological moment when children legally assume majority control over their persons and their actions and decisions, thereby terminating the legal control and legal responsibilities of their parents over and for them."
"Right, and you even sound like a lawyer," Mrs. Powers laughed.
Mary Lou grinned and said, "Not yet, but I'm getting there."
"So it is called the Age of Majority because you legally assume majority control over your persons, actions and decisions. Why majority control? Anyone?" There was silence in the room, even Mary Lou looking kinda puzzled. "Anyone?" Mrs. Powers asked again.
"I'll take a stab at it," Justin said. "You assume majority control, but not complete control because you can never be in complete control over your person and your environment."
"Ok," Mrs. Powers said, "Give me an example, Justin."
"Well, think about sexuality. I have no control over my sexuality. I'm gay and nothing I can do about it, I just am. I have no control over that, BUT I have control over how I function within that given. Practically, that means I have control over if, when and with whom I have sex."
Mrs. Powers is seldom caught off base, but she was this time, even more so when John, laughing, said, "Marc says you better remember that and keep it under control!"
When the class settled down, Mrs. Powers said, "Not the example I might have chosen, but it works. Assuming, as most educated people do these days, that your sexuality is determined and therefore not the object of personal control, address the issue of laws concerning gays. Anyone."
"For starters, like Justin, I'm gay and I have no control over that," I said. "So if restrictions are placed on me simply because I am gay they are a violation of my civil rights, just as restrictions on women because they are women, on African-Americans because they are black, are a violation of their civil rights. In other words, those things over which we have no control cannot be used against us without violating our civil rights."
"Concrete, Marc, concrete," Mrs. Powers said.
"Ok, an issue which continues to generate a lot of heat. Heterosexuals like John, Susan and Bobbie can marry. Laying aside the religious side of marriage since the state has no business fuc . . . . messing around with religion anyway, marriage is a legal arrangement giving partners certain rights -- visiting each other in the hospital, tax breaks, for example -- so why can't gays marry? Remember, I am gay by birth, not choice and, therefore, my sexuality should not be a bar to my rights. How can the law deny Justin and me the rights and privileges any heterosexual couple has? We want to be married, so what business is it of the state?" Some of the class were shocked, some applauded.
"Does this mean you'll marry me after all?" Justin asked.
I looked at Justin and realized marrying him was what I wanted to do more than anything and, in spite of the the fact he had asked me several times, he wasn't prepared when I said, "Hell, yes!"
I don't think I have to state Justin's question and my response provoked a lively discussion. Of those who were shocked, some were simply shocked, I guess, by Justin's and my open admission we were gay and wanted to be married. Two, however, were really getting into what could only be called hate speech when Mrs. Powers called a halt minutes before the bell.
When the bell rang, I picked up my books to leave when Justin stepped in front of me, put his arms around me and gave me a great kiss -- an open-mouth, tongue-wrestling kiss. Mrs. Powers said, "Don't you think you two are going a bit far?"
"Probably," I replied, a stupid, I'm sure, grin on my face.
"Question," Justin said, "would you have said anything to a hetero couple in the same circumstances?"
"Of course, I would," Mrs. Powers said, indignantly.
"But you didn't," Bobbie said. "Adam kissed me as we were leaving class more than once and you just said, "Ain't love grand."
"Gotcha!" Justin said, "but no hard feelings -- this time."
Mrs. Powers said, "Thanks, and I mean it."
When we got to the lockers, Adam was there, opening his. He looked like shit. He had not shaved -- and he had a heavy, dark beard -- and had large black circles under his eyes. As soon as I saw him, I expected him to bolt when we approached, but he didn't. He just hung his head and stood by the lockers until we arrived.
Bobbie and Kenneth had been strolling down the hall in no rush at all and were the last to arrive. When they approached, Adam looked up and saw the two walking, holding hands, and reacted as if someone had kicked him in the gut. When they reached the lockers, Bobbie said, "Adam, I'd like you to meet Kenneth Thurmond. Kenneth, Adam Sanford." She didn't have to say who Adam was since Kenneth had been in on everything a day now.
Kenneth extended his hand and said, "Adam."
Adam shook hands, but said nothing. He stood, shuffling his feet and finally looked up, big tears in his eyes and said, "I know you all must hate me and what I did was shitty. I apologize, but I know that won't change what I have said and done. Mostly it was childish and stupid, but I never meant anyone to get hurt. If I had known what Kev and his old man would do to Sandy, I hope you know I would have stopped it -- if I could. Nobody should be hurt like that and really, for no reason. God, I'm sorry."
I didn't know what to say. I sure as hell was not going to say, "Forget it, it doesn't matter." I guess the others were in the same boat -- well, until Susan spoke.
"Adam, you have done some really stupid things in the past. I hope you know that, but you have never fucked up as you did this time, starting in Florida. Who you loved and how you loved was your business. To tell the truth, I would have called you on your male chauvinism toward Bobbie a long time ago, but I didn't because that relationship belonged to the two of you. Likewise, you sure as hell have no right to try to horn in on who Justin and Marc love or how they go about it. I can't say come on back, all is forgiven and mean it. Maybe one day, but you're going to have to work your dumbass off proving you are a man. I'm willing to give you some time to do that, but there's a limit. And while it may seem to contradict what I have said about relationships, you're going to have to separate yourself from the stupid jocks who are in the same deep shit you are in, else you'll sink deeper. I hope you realize that. That's all I've got to say."
Adam looked up and looked at each of us and as he did, Bobbie said, "Amen," and we all agreed.
"I understand," Adam said, and walked away.
Before school was out, Justin called Mr. Sanford and asked if we could go by the hospital before coming in to work and he said he expected us to. Clarisa had gotten some of Justin's clothes together and a sheriff's deputy had picked them up before she and Amy Louise went to do whatever they were doing.
When we arrived, Sandy was sitting on the edge of his bed, naked as before, while Dr. Macon checked him out. He finally said, "You should be in fine fettle in another week. Hope you won't miss your black and blue color scheme. Now, you're ready to ride."
Sandy cleared his throat and said, "Unless you can promise me that flock of good-looking boys waiting for me, I better have some clothes."
"I forgot, the good-looking boys were booked up, but said they'd see you at the prom and I think Nurse Ratched will be bringing clothes soon," Dr. Macon grinned.
"Doctor, I read the book!" Sandy said, in a whiny voice, "Not Nurse Ratched, better the swamp. Send me to the swamp, the swamp."
A very pleasant nurse had appeared at the door while the two started kidding around. "Nurse Ratched indeed," she said and laughed. "I ought to throw you in the swamp in your birthday suit and let the 'gators have a decent meal. Instead, why don't I let your friends help you get dressed?"
"Marc and I'll help him," Justin said, "unless he's afraid we might attack him."
"Attack me! Attack me," Sandy grinned.
John said, "Meanwhile, I'll go downstairs and check him out."
I was surprised when Justin's clothes fit Sandy perfectly, except for length. Justin's pants were definitely high water on Sandy. Getting the T-shirt on without hurting his back frightened me, but he didn't seem to have a problem.
When he was on his way to his new home, Justin and I went to work. As we left, John reminded us we were having the homecoming supper for Sandy at his place tonight.
There was no way I could avoid being with Adam since his dad had decreed that Adam would work to help pay the hospital bill. John told us later Mr. Sanford had paid the whole bill, but was requiring Adam to repay a fourth of it. Adam told me that, and that his dad said he could work at Sanford Furniture or get a job elsewhere. "Decided it might help for me to work here since I've avoided it as much as I can all these years and Dad knows it."
I'll admit it was strange working with Adam. Most of the time he was not at all the arrogant guy he had been before, and when he started that nonsense, I called him on it. He worked hard and when he did talk about the whole mess over me and Justin, was apologetic to the point that I finally suggested he had said enough, and DOING was what counted.
Lacy had been to see Sandy in the hospital and knew the shape he was in. When Justin and I arrived for supper, I was pleased to see she had taken Sandy's condition into consideration in setting the menu for his "homecoming." His face and mouth were still definitely bruised and so nothing that required a lot of chewing or having to open your mouth like an alligator found its way to the table.
Sandy was, naturally, pretty shy at first, but gradually warmed up and joined in the conversation. I did notice he found it confusing to figure out what to pick up next. Lacy had shown good thinking in setting the menu, but she had neglected to think about a country boy's probable lack of knowledge of formal table settings. There was, I'm sure, more china, crystal and silver at the boy's place than his family's stoneware, glass and stainless combined. I noticed, however, he had his eye on Mr. Thurmond and followed his lead. Good thinking! That also reminded me to stop thinking of him as a boy. He was one smart young man. Realizing that, I also recalled he had the equipment he needed to prove he was a man should there be any question in that department!
In his business, Mr. Thurmond did a lot of work with farmers and knew the county as well as he did his own front yard. He, of course, was able to carry on a conversation with Sandy which, frequently, left the rest of us in the dark. My ears kinda pricked up when Mr. Thurmond asked, "Hear you have a few 'gators out Grandview way these days, Sandy."
"Yes sir. You know they're good eatin'; 'gator tail is."
"Oh, huntin' season for 'gators these days?" Mr. Thurmond asked, a grin on his face.
Sandy grinned in response and said, "Course not, sir, but if they're eatin' your chickens, you can kill one. And if you hang one of your chickens 'bout two feet above the water where 'gators live, they sure work hard to eat it. Single shot right between the eyes and you've saved your chicken and it's 'gator tail for supper."
I knew Clarisa spoke two dialects and switched between them with ease, but it had never occurred to me that some white folks did. Mr. Thurmond was every bit as country talking as Sandy, when the two started carrying on a conversation which left the rest of us outside. No wonder he was so successful in dealing with farmers. What was even stranger to me was the fact that he was perfectly natural being a country boy. There was absolutely nothing fake about it.
After a great supper, we said goodnight to Lacy and Mr. Thurmond and all headed to our place. John had taken Sandy aside and asked if he felt up to going or if he needed to just rest, and he said he was doing fine. When we walked out of the house, Bobbie and Kenneth were immediately wrapped up in each other's arms. Definitely something going on there.