PZA: Teacher 40-42

Chapter 40: Ft tb MMg — Chapter 41: Ft — Chapter 42: Mt

Chapter Forty

— Ft tb MMg —

Thanks to Billy for suggesting the plots involving Annette and involving Cory in this story, and to Caroline for suggesting the character of Callie Dean (whom we'll be seeing more of in chapter 49)

"Goddamn fucking racist pigs!" Billy cursed, his face dark with anger and his eyes flashing. "You heard what those bastards said?"

"Yeah." Cory wasn't exactly sure what Billy was referring to but he figured he probably meant the two cops calling blacks niggers and talking about running them out of the country. They'd said a lot of nasty things actually.

"Yeah, I guess." Making Molly and Trang do embarrassing, humiliating things like flashing their teachers and skanky old men was one thing, but raping them was something quite different, and nothing he'd expected to happen. When Billy had swung by the Seven-Eleven at noon Wednesday to sell drugs and peddle some porn, Billy had given him the two tapes he'd mentioned Sunday. Watching Anton and the john in Room 137 when he'd gotten home from visiting Antoinette and his baby that night had been totally unexpected and totally wicked.

That had been his second big surprise Wednesday. His first was to find Dominic, naked as a jay, sitting at the Gilles's kitchen table when he'd gone over to check on how his baby was doing and to have a quick fuck.

"Why don't I leave the two of you alone to visit for a while," Antoinette had offered, sensing the awkwardness between them.

Cory also sensed the hesitancy in her voice. She always looked forward to seeing him, and having a roll in bed, and he'd been looking forward to having a piece himself.

It was sort of weird following her to the master bedroom and stripping down and fucking her, at least for the first few minutes. After that the pleasure of a hot, sweaty fuck took over.

"So you've been here since Monday night," Cory observed as he helped himself to a second piece of peach pie. He had, after all, just had two pieces of tail and had worked up an appetite, and he was a growing thirteen-year-old boy. Antoinette had left the two of them alone and had gone to take a shower. Dominic had explained over the first piece of pie that Monday after school when he'd been called to the principal's office, it was because his father had dropped by the school that afternoon with his things and had a meeting with Julius Gilles. Cory couldn't believe the son of a bitch hadn't even had the balls to talk to his son earlier about his plan, though he didn't share his thought about the bastard with Dominic. He did have to smile as tried to imagine the conversation with Goosey. Goosey would have been flattered the Area Superintendent of Schools wanted him to look after his son for a while, and he would have been flattering and sucking Halder's ass big time. At the same time, he had to have been sweating bullets. The Area Superintendent's son was going to find out he and his family went about buck naked and that he slept with his oldest boy, and maybe a lot of other things about his family that he wouldn't want his supervisor and boss to know about!

"Yeah. I was going to tell you Tuesday, and today, but didn't get a chance," Dominic said.

That was true. Cory had been busy talking to Ben and putting his plan into place on Tuesday, and talking to Billy at noon Wednesday about Billy's weekend plans, and what had happened with Dominic you couldn't catch up on just between classes. Dominic stared down at his empty plate. He'd certainly been eating well at the Gilles's, and things had been very interesting. He looked up at Cory and hesitantly asked, "So, you and Mrs Gilles are, you know, you're, doing it?"

Having gone to her bedroom and having spent the next hour there, and having come out stark naked and smelling like sex, it had been rather evident.

"Yeah," Cory admitted with a grin. Coming out of the bedroom all sweaty and flushed, it had to have been obvious what they had been doing, especially with his cock still half erect and Antoinette's cunt still partially swollen and wet. It was sort of weird sharing with your buddy and classmate that you were screwing your teacher's wife.

It was wicked hearing innocent little Dominic swear like that. Well, he wasn't so innocent any more, thanks to Cory. It was even weirder sharing the secret that their teacher's wife was having his child.

Anyway, that had been the first big surprise Wednesday. Watching Molly and Trang being brutally raped by the two cops had been the second, both the rape and that it was by cops, but from the way the two girls walked around with their noses in the air thinking they were so much better than everyone else and from the way they treated Ben and some of the others at the school, Cory wasn't exactly totally sorry for them either.

"Return the country to the white race all right! Clean the country up good! Well I'm going to do some cleaning up myself, and use those two bastards as mops."

"What are you going to do?" Cory asked. He'd never seen Billy so mad and that was frightening. He knew Billy had connections and associated with some pretty unsavoury and rough criminals and gang members.

"I dunno yet, but I'll think of something to fix those white bastards. Maybe turn them into human toilets for my Momma's house," he said, thinking of the tapes of Bob Moser and the Spudder's feeding Goosey Gilles, "or maybe I'll castrate them. We'll see how macho they are when I'm done." Billy scowled as he thought of the possibilities. "But, hey, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about, my man. Have you thought about what I mentioned yesterday, about coming over to Juan's aunt's place with us tomorrow night?"

"Well, its going to be a special occasion, and you're the one responsible for introducing me to my main squeeze, you know. I'd like you to be there, man. Besides, you got a way of persuading people, of making them do things they don't want to do, and I could use the backup just in case," Billy replied.

He didn't know exactly how Cory did what he did, but he recognized things happened when the boy was around, and he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If he had ignored the boy's improbable claim he had made a hot porno video back in October he wouldn't have met Annette, and he wouldn't be raking in the cash he was at the moment. They were making good money on porn films, better than he'd ever made and many of them the result directly or indirectly of the thirteen-year-old.

"Well, sure I'll come, if I can help you," Cory agreed with a shrug. He took a deep drag on his cigarette. Billy had done a lot to help him, setting up the hidden cams at the Gilles's, the school, his home, splitting the money from the videos they were making, a lot of things.

As Cory had expected, he'd had no trouble getting permission to go out the following night, and he hadn't had to even use his headband to influence his parents. They had been in an exceptionally good mood all week, and he suspected it had something to do with the Wilson twins. They were mature, polite, eager to learn and exceptionally bright and yet humble and down-to-earth, the type of teens adults loved. That was fine with him. Anything that made his parents happy made him happy. It had also helped that he hadn't gotten into any sort of mischief all week-well, except for a couple little phone calls to Jonah and Terry and one to Bob Moser for help to set something up at Westbank Park but that wasn't going to happen until the coming Sunday and his parents hopefully would never know anything about it anyway. And there was the little white lie about going over to Dominic's for the weekend instead of the truth that he was going with Billy, but it wasn't a total lie as he was going to be spending Saturday night with Dominic, though not at Dominic's home nor at his temporary home with the Gilles's. Besides, having gotten an A in his history project, thanks a lot to Ben, who after Tuesday night couldn't do enough for him, he deserved to have a couple tiny lies, and to have a bit of fun.

So, Billy picked him up after school Friday and drove over to the Gladys Harper Private School for Girls to pick up Annette, and then across the city to Canal Street in the middle of the part of Riverside unofficially called the Latin District as that was where most of the immigrants from Mexico and the Carribean lived. It wasn't a poor or lower class district like Baldwin Park over between Sixteenth Street and the Industrial Park, but it wasn't anything like Eaglemont where Annette lived, or even Briarwood where Cory and his friends lived. The homes and yards were smaller and there were a lot of duplexes and fourplexes and the houses all looked much the same, white and sort of plain.

Inside was totally different. Cory had never seen such a crash of colour, gaudy and tacky in Annette's biassed eyes but wild and crazy in Cory's. Bright woven tapestries depicting jungle and seascape and rural village scenes were hung on the walls and brightly coloured and intricately woven blankets covered the sofas and chairs, all of which were large and stuffed and inviting. Hanging from any wall space not covered and cluttering the shelves, end tables, and cabinets were family pictures and nicknacks of every imaginable shape and design. The room was filled with people dressed just as colourfully as the rest of the house looked. He had never seen so many people milling about in one room and spilling into the hallways and adjacent rooms, people of all sorts of shapes and sizes, well over half being young teenagers or children.

Somehow in the crowd Billy's friend Juan spotted them and came over and greeted them, giving Billy a big hug and Annette a big kiss, on the lips. A round of introductions followed with warm hugs and kisses all around, Juan's aunt and uncle whose house they were visiting, his grandparents who were living with them, his mother and father who lived down the street, his eight brothers and sisters who ranged in age from four to twenty-eight, and several more aunts and uncles. Interspersed with Juan's introductions Billy introduced his family, his three sisters and two brothers, a favourite aunt and uncle, Emma and Elijah Dean, his grandmother, and his mother, Callie Dean, a short, tiny woman, five-foot-four [1.63m] and a hundred and twenty-five pounds [57kg], at least half of that being tits and ass. Cory had never seen such boobs, daringly exposed in a tight red dress with a wide and low-cut neckline. Ben would so totally cream his underwear just seeing her! Evidently the Dean and Carlos families had known each other for a long time, Billy's family originally from Trinidad and living beside Juan's parents. Cory and Annette stood out as the only two Caucasians there.

"And these, are three very special people," said Billy, beaming at three little children, a little black boy just under two years of age and two girls, one just over a year and the other a little black baby four months old, "Juan's daughter Juanita, and my son and daughter, Luther and Lucy."

Annette stared at the three children. These were the children of the two men who had been having sex with her?

"Dat girl know her poppa's main squeeze," said Elijah, slapping his nephew on the back.

"Come, come, you must have something to eat," Juan's mother said, ushering Annette and Cory toward a huge table stacked high with food of all sorts. "After all, you are eating for two now," she said with a bright grin. God, she knew! How many of them knew? Annette wanted to crawl under the table. "And you are a growing boy," she said, pinching Cory's cheek, "and a very enterprising one, Billy tells us." Cory wondered just what Billy had told them.

For the next hour they visited and munched on appetizers, crisp, golden-brown, finger-thin cheese corn sticks called surullitos, something called ostiones which Cory was told were mangrove oysters, and mofongo, half ripe plantain mashed with pork cracklings and garlic and served on thin slices of bread. While the men and women drank pitchers of beer or rum drinks, the children had pop or a coconut and lime punch. Cory and Annette quickly discovered like most Latino people, Juan's and Billy's families were very friendly, outgoing, and family oriented and they were immediately made to feel like one of the family. Well, Cory anyway. Annette was having great difficulty being the only white person other than Cory in a room filled with niggers and spics. She was also discovering much to her discomfort that their family attitudes were quite different and more open than was the case with her family and friends.

"So, you are having Billy's baby," gushed one of the teenage girls around sixteen, one of Billy's sisters Annette figured.

"Look how she blushes! A charming mother to be," giggled one of the girls on Juan's side.

"You are very pretty. And such lovely hair," observed one, reaching up and stroking Annette's long, curly red hair. She instinctively pulled away. People did not touch each other, and especially not white and coloured people.

"You are so lucky to be having Billy's baby," said another, a Latino girl who had to be no older than fourteen herself. "I wish I was."

"Oh yes, it would be such an honour to have his child. He is so sexy." The other girls all giggled.

"It would be an honour to be so loved by any man as to bear his child," said another girl who looked of the same age. A cousin perhaps. They all looked alike to Annette, and there were too many to remember by name.

"Indeed," said one of Juan's aunts, overhearing the conversation as she filled her plate with appetizers a second time, "and having a baby at such a young age is a privilege and a blessing from God." They all nodded and voiced their agreement, and the women who had not already done so congratulated her on her pregnancy.

"And you are so lucky to have not just one lover, but two boyfriends such as Juan and Billy," observed another of the aunts.

"And so virile," said the grandmother with a twinkle in her eyes and they all laughed.

Annette blushed again a bright red, causing more laughter. Though it was all good natured and friendly, she found the comments and the attention most discomforting and embarrassing. "Juan and Billy already have other children," she observed hesitantly, looking down at Juanita who was presently sitting in her lap and playing with the necklace Juan had given her.

The girls and women about her suddenly fell silent and looked grim. "Their wife," said one of the older girls. "The mother of their children passed away in November, only a month after Lucy was born."

"November twenty-second, God rest her soul," said one of the aunts, making the sign of the cross.

"Ah, but they have found you," said Juan's grandmother. "God knows that boys with such spirit and so full of love should not be alone for long."

"And unfortunately, you were already taken," observed Billy as he joined them, causing the grandmother to laugh and shush him, but clearly pleased by his flattery. "Can I drag Annette away for a few minutes?"

"Only if you promise to bring her back. She is such a sweet young t'ing," his aunt Emma observed. Uncle Elijah evidently thought the same from the way he had been eying her, and she did not like the looks he had been giving her at all.

Annette followed Billy upstairs to one of the bedrooms where she found Juan and Cory. "So what do you think of our families?" asked Billy.

"They're… very friendly," Annette replied honestly. "And open." What else can a person say to such a blunt and personal question.

"Yes… certainly." That question was even more impolite. You just don't ask people such personal things. She tried to sound sincere but years of prejudice were not easily overcome, even with people of such friendliness.

"I know they are different," Billy said, sensing she was not being totally truthful and glancing at Cory for confirmation, "but you will grow to like them, as Lucille did."

"Well, like they say, the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. And in this case, giveth again. Her skin was as soft and pale as yours." Billy looked at her with such a sense of sadness and of love as he gently stroked her cheek that she could not help but feel it. At times he could be so gentle and caring. "And the children? How do you feel about them?"

"They're, very, lovable," she replied. Talking about Billy's dead wife and knowing she was a white girl like herself was most disturbing, and she was not all that comfortable with the surprise he already had children before theirs. "Charming actually." The description just seemed to pop into her head. It fit. They were beautiful children, and seemed very well behaved. Theirs, hers and Billy's, would be too.

"Of course. I don't want our child to be born a bastard." Annette didn't know what to say. "You do want to get married, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," she replied honestly. She had thought of that the moment she'd found out she was pregnant, but from his behaviour and attitude she had assumed that he would not. Besides, she was only fourteen, and he was black and she was white.

"And raise our children?" he asked, glancing at Juan and then returning his gaze to study her. Cory was staring at her too, with that blank sort of stunned look he often had.

"Yes, our three children have grown up together. Aunt Rosa and Uncle Rafael have been very good looking after them since Lucille died, but they have their own children, and two grandchildren. Juanita, Lucy and Luther need a stable home environment with a mother and fathers who they can call their own," replied Juan.

"Ah, yes, sure." Getting married was only right and proper when a girl got pregnant. And little children did need parents to look after them when they were little.

Billy gave her a warm kiss and a long hug. "Juan, why don't you take our wife back down to join the others. I need a word with Cory."

"Yeah, sure," Juan said, extending his hand to Annette. As she rose he gave her a long, passionate kiss and a hug also, and a squeeze on the buttocks. "I'm so glad you've agreed to marry us."

Cory watched them leave, as surprised and as confused as Annette, and as stunned too, not from the marriage proposal and mention of the stepchildren as in her case, but from the effort it had taken to probe her mind. "So what do you figure?" Billy asked once they were out of sight. "You can sense what people are thinking. Does she like Juan's family and mine?"

"Not really," Cory said truthfully. "The Gilles's aren't exactly the welcoming type when it comes to people who are not white like them."

"I've sort of noticed that," Billy said with a grin, "but that prejudice can be overcome can't it, at least in Annette's case? You know them better than I."

"Oh yeah, it can," Cory observed, and then silently to himself, 'if not by natural means, then I think I can use the headband to bring her around.'

"She's quite surprised, but I think she likes them." The second half wasn't true. He'd sensed a real sense of repugnance. Turning that around would probably not be that difficult though. She was having a child herself after all, and he did get thoughts of liking children.

How she could marry two men at the same time Cory didn't understand, but why not? She was screwing around with both of them. "I think so." Marriage yes, though not because of love. To the two of them, there she was as confused as Cory was.

"Anything you can do to help convince her I'd appreciate, both Juan and I. Maybe you can talk to her. You can be very persuasive."

Before more could be said Juan's aunt and uncle called them to supper. They sat down to a lavish meal like Cory and Annette had never had before, beginning with bacalaitos, fritters of mashed, spicy salt fish, followed by Sopa de Gandules, a lumpy green pigeon pea soup, which Cory thought was made from pigeons when he was told the English translation and was relieved to hear pigeon was the type of pea and the soup was actually made of tomato, green pepper, pumpkin, pigeon peas, and diced ham. Following the soup was something they called piononos, crusty, deep-fried golden-brown plantain rings with spiced ground beef fillings loaded with onions, green pepper, olives, garlic, and chillies and arranged around a mound of red beans on top of rice and served with beer. The main course was asopao, a chicken and rice stew made of rice, tomatoes, peas, green olives, Parmesan cheese, strips of chicken, and strips of red pimiento, and for desert slices of pineapple and rich almond and raison butter tarts made with cane sugar.

Throughout the meal the family laughed and joked and included Annette and Cory in their conversation. And throughout it all, Cory did his best in all the noise and talking, to do a bit of scanning, and a bit of pinging. It was not easy. Annette was in a total state of confusion and shock, bordering on hysteria, and he was constantly being handed food and bombarded with questions about how he had come to know Billy.

"A toast t' our host and hostess fo a most wonderful meal," proposed Elijah as he struggled to his feet, hindered by his weight and a few too many beers. They all readily raised their glasses and complemented the hosts on the great food and their hospitality.

"This has been a most fitting meal and fitting company for my announcement," said Billy as he rose and had Annette stand with him. "As you all know, Annette is having my baby." Cheers and congratulations were again extended, to him and to her. "Well, earlier this evening, just before we sat down to eat actually, I proposed to her, and she accepted-." His speech was cut off by cheering and clapping and the raising of drinks. Taking a box out of his pocket, he opened it up and showed everyone a very large, and very expensive engagement ring. It took several minutes for everyone to quieten down again. "And not only that, she has agreed to become the stepmother of my two children." Again drinks were raised and the couple congratulated.

"And I too have an announcement," remarked Juan as he stood and glanced at Billy with a broad smile. "Annette has also agreed to become a stepmother to Juanita and to be my wife," he said, producing a matching ring and slipping it on her finger next to the first.

There followed another round of cheers and congratulations requiring them to refill their glasses. "And one more toast," said Billy, still standing with his arm about Juan's shoulders. "To the man who introduced me to my wife-to-be, and who has come be a profitable business partner, and I hope he will agree, a good friend, Cory Wilson."

Cory looked at Billy in surprise as once again glasses clinked and everyone clapped and cheered. As the men retired to the living room to congratulate the two bridegrooms and offer them husbandly advice over another round of drinks, the women congregated in the kitchen to do the dishes, and to provide advice and congratulations to the bride.

"You are a very, very lucky young woman indeed," said Grandmother Carlos. "And to have a child already," she observed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I was your age when I had my first child you know," she beamed. "And was blessed with thirteen more."

"You will not be disappointed," observed Rosa. "Inside that rough exterior, Billy and Juan are both good boys. You will find nobody more dedicated to family than they are."

Yeah, right. He was married and had a child and another well on the way when he'd begun jumping her. How much of a family man was that? Of course Annette could not say that as much as she wanted to and just sat there and smiled. Cory, who had situated himself as near the kitchen as he could to hear but still be with the men, had managed to read her sceptical and sarcastic thought despite the noise, and he could ask the question, deciding to direct it to Mamma Dean.

"Of course, we must not confuse a man's love and loyalty to his wife and family with his basic needs and instinct to fulfill his duties as a man," she said, the possibility Annette might not understand how a married man can get another woman pregnant popping into her mind for some reason.

"Ah, yes, my man had many children by many women, but only one wife," observed Grandmother Dean.

"Though you can certainly try," said one of the aunts slyly with a smile and twinkle in her eyes, causing the younger girls to giggle.

"You must by all means, keep your man satisfied," said one of Juan's sisters as she juggled two young babies on her lap. "Bear him many children, and while you are heavy with child, use the other parts of your body to satisfy him." Again there was much giggling, and Cory delighted in the images he was receiving.

"Just remember, the duty of a wife is to serve and obey her man, in all things. The man is the head of the household."

"At least a shrewd woman knows how to make a man think that he is," said one of the aunts to the amusement and agreement of the others.

"Why not? In the days of old, did not King David have a wife and a t'ousand concubines, wit' the approval of God?" asked Callie.

"But think of the fun of trying," said another, causing another round of giggling. To Annette's shock the women were certainly much more ribald than those of her family or the families of her friends. Cory was quite enjoying the conversation.

"With Billy and Juan, you have nothing to fear. They are both good boys, and know how to appreciate a woman."

"Including the same nipples," Juan's mother observed, glancing over at Billy's mother with a knowing smile.

"Dose boys!" she chuckled as she recalled what Juan's mother was thinking. "If one seen the other being suckled, he put up a fuss until he got the other teat!"

"So it is little wonder they still share the tits of the same girl!" one of the sisters observed, causing another round of laughter. Annette blushed. Was there anything they didn't know, or didn't talk openly about?

"The children have taken to you already," observed Grandmother Dean. "You will be a good mother. A very good mother." She patted Annette on the thigh, causing Annette to tense.

So close had the link between them formed that Cory could feel her revulsion being touched by the black woman. What compassion he had for her up until then vanished feeling such strong hatred and prejudice and he was tempted to accent her fears and feelings of disgust just to make her more miserable, but instead he supported the grandmother's belief, building on Annette's fond memories of her childhood and using her maternal instincts of love for her own child and extending that feeling to include her future stepchildren. It was not easy, and he knew he was only marginally successful.

Meanwhile Juan and Billy were getting their own advice from the men, their uncles reminding them it was their duty to keep their women sexually satisfied, and impregnated, everyone knowing the more children a man had the greater his virility. They also reminded them they were to protect and cherish all women and particularly the woman they chose as wife, and to let their wives think they were the bosses once in a while but to never let them forget who ran the household.

In time the youngest children were ushered off to makeshift beds, and Billy and Juan indicated that they and Annette were turning in early also. The entire family of course knew why and the three were given much ribbing as they headed up the stairs to the guest room that had been set aside for them. For the hundredth time that evening Annette wanted to die, but at least she would be free from the relatives below her.

"Ramon, why don't you show our other guest where the two of you will be sleeping?"

"Of course, Aunt Rosa. May we take a few pastries to eat, and maybe some ostiones?"

"It is perhaps Juan and Billy who should have taken a plate of ostiones," joked one of the uncles to the laughter of the others.

"I doubt if either needs them," observed Rosa with a smile. "Of course, you take as many as you want," she continued, looking at Ramon.

It was not even ten o'clock yet, but Cory followed the boy up the stairs. He wasn't the least bit tired. Taking him down to the end of the hallway, Ramon pushed back the sheet that had been hung across the corridor to form a tiny hideaway at the end no more than six feet [1.80m] long. Several heavy blankets were spread out on the floor on which were piled several pillows. A cross with Jesus hanging from it had evidently been hastily hung on one wall.

Ramon nodded proudly. "When Juan said I should sleep with you tonight. We even have our own little window," he indicated. "We could even read, the light from the streetlight outside is so bright, if that is what you want to do," he said with an impish grin. "But if you like dark we can hang a pillowcase over the window." Placing the plate heaped with snacks on the windowsill, Ramon took one of the pastries and stuffed it in his mouth as he glanced up at Cory expectantly.

"Very nice," Cory admitted. "Nice and cozy." Ramon beamed. "What was that about the ostiones?" he asked. "About needing them and stuff."

"They are mangrove oysters," Ramon explained. "You know the joke about oysters?" Cory shook his head. "Well, there was this man who was drinking at this bar, and he looked real sad, so the bartender asked why, and the man said he was having difficulty getting a bone. You know what that is?" Cory smiled as he nodded. "Well, the bartender said what he needed to do was eat some oysters, because they help a man get hard. So the man ordered a dozen, and then went upstairs with this ho. The next day he sees the bartender and says he wants his money back. The bartender asks why, didn't the oysters work. And the man says, just eleven of them."

Ramon nodded. "Momma says nobody should ever go to bed alone, and she said Gramma told her that, and Gramma said her mother said that before her. Juan and Billy said you were very special, and I was to make you feel specially good."

"Next year. I turned ten last week." Cory looked at him. He was short and light for his age, four foot three [1.30m] and sixty pounds [27kg], and still had full cheeks and the looks of a boy several years younger. "If you'd like a boy older, more your age, or older yet, or a boy younger, I have brothers and cousins. Or if you'd rather a girl…"

"No. I'd rather you," Cory said. If Billy and Juan had chosen him, they have to have good reason.

Ramon beamed again. "I will make sure every oyster works," he promised seriously as Cory reached for one, and the two boys giggled. "Do you want to make sex in the light, or in the dark?"

With a happy smile, Ramon slipped off his shirt and pulled his T-shirt off over his head. His jeans and jockey shorts quickly followed. His skin was a deep reddish-brown from top to bottom. Cory quickly followed, chucking his clothes aside. Puffing up the pillows, Ramon told him to lie back, and picking up one of the oysters, he fed it to Cory. "That's two," he said with a twinkle in his dark brown eyes and an impish grin.

Wiping his fingers off on Cory's teats, he snuggled down and began to lick them and Cory squirmed with pleasure immediately rippling out from his nipples. It was sort of hot watching the younger boy laying there licking his teats and it did not take them long to grow hard. Ramon sucked on them for a few minutes, and then skipped his lips down Cory's smooth chest, past his waist and over his flat stomach. He nibbled on Cory's inner thighs and licked them, causing Cory's cock to twitch and begin to swell. Slipping his lips about the soft worm, the recently turned ten-year-old boy sucked on it gently, allowing the heat and moisture of his mouth and the fact it was in his mouth do the job. Once Cory was stiff, he slipped his lips off and tickled the tip with his tongue, causing Cory to jerk and squirm with arousal and the boy to giggle at the pleasure he was causing.

Crouching there between Cory's outspread legs, he teased his cock, pulling back his foreskin and licking the rim of his sensitive knob, striking at his peehole with the tip of his tongue, and nibbling on the blood-engorged bulb. Cory trembled as he felt the boy's hair brush against his thighs as he lowered his head and licked the insides of his thighs, and then slowly moved up to lick his low-hanging balls before taking first the lower one, then the other, and then both in his mouth and gently sucking on them. Working up a mouthful of saliva, he drooled it over Cory's knob, allowing it to ooze down over the bulb and down the shaft and over his nuts. Lapping his spittle back up, he drooled it over Cory's now twitching, aching cock again.

Finally slipping his mouth over the aching flesh, Ramon began to suck gently as he ever so slowly drew his lips up and then back down his shaft. At the same time he caressed Cory's hips and thighs and his backside. As Cory's breath became deeper and more strained as the pressure rapidly began to build in his loins, Ramon bobbed his head faster, sending thrills of arousal through the irritated bulb. Cory tensed with his approaching climax but before he reached it Ramon clamped his lips down tightly below the knob and paused, cutting off his desire and allowing him to calm back down.

And then he resumed, again sucking gently on the throbbing, aching knob and then slowly slipping his smooth, moist lips up and down the shaft, at the same time caressing Cory's buttocks and his thighs. Again Cory felt that delightfully painful pressure developing deep in his loins and he thrilled with the burning of his knob and the throbbing deep in his loins, looking forward with anticipation to his climax. Slipping his lips off the now rapidly twitching early teen cock, Ramon sat there and caressed Cory's thighs as his stiff cock jerked and his knob burned. Cory was panting now as if he'd made a dozen laps around the gym. Ramon held his cock at the base and swirled his tongue about his exposed knob, causing Cory to arch his body with his impending climax, only to have Ramon again cut him off at the last moment.

"Before the night is over, you will see God," said Ramon with a grin, his smooth, bean-brown skin reflecting the street light. Cory did not doubt his word.

"Yes," Annette replied, having calmed down after the barrage of noise downstairs and the excitement of the evening. She'd have been happier if it had just been the two of them in the tiny room.

They had stripped, and the two men were sitting there on the edge of the bed, one on either side of her with her lying on her back, Billy caressing her stomach and Juan stroking her hair.

"It will be a big baby. Lucille was never that big with any of our children at this stage," observed Juan.

It was weird, hearing them speak of their wife that way and hearing them talk so openly about Billy's baby. She still didn't understand how two men could have one wife, or how a man could let his wife bear the child of another man. It was not the first time the three of them had stripped and the two of them had caressed her, but usually one or the other or both were eager to get off and had initiated some sex act by now. Tonight they had been slow and uncharacteristically gentle, and had talked as they had caressed her body, about how beautiful she was, and how lucky they were, and how happy she was going to be. Their hands caressed her body, Billy's dark black hand caressing her swollen stomach with gentle, sweeping circles, Juan's reddish-brown hand gently caressing her breasts with the same sweeping circles. His hand slipped down her narrow waist as Billy's rose, the two hands passing, the dark one now squeezing and stroking her other breast, the reddish-brown one now stroking her stomach. The two men leaned forward and kissed her on the cheeks, and then the lips, Billy first, Juan second.

Their hands roamed her body, passing each other, occasionally brushing against each other, occasionally one slipping over the other. Taking her right hand, Billy guided it to his thighs and stroked himself with it for a moment before returning to her stomach, leaving her hand there to continue caressing him. Juan took the other hand and placed it on his shoulder and as she began to caress his smooth, strong back he returned to her breast. It was slow and gentle and it felt so strange to have the two men caressing her at the same time as she caressed them.

She relied on their guidance though she'd engaged in foreplay with the two of them dozens of times by then, more often one on one, or with one focussing on the front of her body and the other lying behind and focussing on her back side. Billy guided her hand to his sweat-damp balls and she gently stroked the dangling eggs, having learned how sensitive they were and how to bring him pleasure by playing with them. Juan brought her other hand down to his crotch to his half-swollen cock, and feeling it, she slipped her fingers about it. He did not have to guide her as she began to slowly stroke it, gently pulling back his foreskin and then ever so slowly pushing it back over his knob just as he liked it, as she'd learned to do.

With the two men caressing her and with her caressing their genitals, it did not take them much longer to become erect, and feeling the heat and strength in that solid flesh, she began to feel the heat pulsating from between her legs also. The two men were skilled lovers, and knowing how she was feeling, they ran their hands down to her lower torso as they lie down on either side of her. They kissed her cheeks and her lips again, Billy caressing her rapidly swelling pussy, Juan caressing her tender backside. His hands slipped up over her right hip as Billy's slipped up the inside of her left thigh and over her hip to her left buttock as Juan's ran gently over her now throbbing pussy. She stroked their now rock hard cocks, knowing to keep her strokes to their shafts least she get them too hot.

Billy's hand returned, and as he stroked her swollen, parted labia so did Juan, their fingers rising and falling together, each on a lip, then Billy's slipping up along the hot, moist crack, following by Juan's. She squirmed with her growing arousal as she felt her fluids flowing and filling her vagina. The two men began to caress her breasts and her cunt more passionately, their hands pressing hard and squeezing tighter, moving faster and touching each other more frequently. They were all breathing deeply now, the spicy scent of their sweat now adding to the fragrance of garlic on their breaths and of sweet nectar from the freshly cut flowers in the small, confined room.

Billy slowly began to move on top of her and as Annette spread her legs he slipped between them. He rubbed the knob of his swollen cock between the lips of her pussy, coating it with her juices and causing her to tremble in anticipation. Balancing on his knees and elbows, he mounted her, there on the narrow bed with Juan laying beside them and caressing her thighs and her breasts. His long, black cock slowly entered her hot, pulsating pussy, inch by inch until his coarse, black hairs were brushing against her curly red ones. Breathing heavily with arousal, he kissed her neck and her cheek, and then fastening his lips to hers, he slowly raised his hips, easing his long, stiff cock back out of her body until the knob was stretching apart her labia.

He slowly sank again, his lips still attached her hers, sucking the breath out of her. She inhaled through her nose, the mixed fragrances of flowers, sweat and garlic filling her lungs as her lover, the father of her as of yet unborn child, fucked her, his best friend laying beside them and gently and lovingly caressing the underside of her raised thighs. She trembled with the pleasure pulsating through her vagina and the burning of her stretch labia, Billy's long cock probing her depths and the thick shaft stretching her cunt muscles open. He worked slowly this night, pausing frequently to allow the building pressure in both their loins to subside and then resuming, bringing them slowly to that peak a second and then a third time, each time arriving sooner and the need growing stronger until the pleasure was a desperate ache.

And then Billy came deep inside her, lunging forward with a groan of pleasure, driving his long cock up her vagina and spurting out his thick, hot lava, mingling his slimy juices with hers, her cunt filled with her own hot slime and bathing his throbbing cock. She trembled with her own orgasm, gasping and groaning with a pleasure only a woman can know as wave after wave pulsated through her hot, dripping cunt. She tightened her thighs about her black lover and wrapped her arms about him, crying out in the ecstasy of her climax and of his, feeling such ecstasy and at the same time such humiliation aware that Juan laying there beside them saw and heard the pleasure she was feeling and that the father of her unborn child had brought her.

Down the hall in the little temporary hideaway Cory cried out in ecstasy also, his twice delayed climax arriving at last. He arched his body and clenched his eyes as he felt his cum gushing up the core of his cock like hot lava rising up the core of a volcano, and then erupting into Ramon's hot, moist mouth. Never had he come so desperately nor so copiously. Spurt after spurt of his early teen cum squirted out the burning tip, filling the ten-year-old's eager mouth. He quivered and bucked with each spurt, his knob on fire, his cock swollen and numb beyond belief. "Oh Jesus," he groaned. "Oh fuck!" His chest heaving as he gasped for air, he threw back his head, his mind spinning with the power of his violent orgasm.

Ramon kept his lips locked about Cory's stiff, throbbing cock throughout his bucking, and when the spurting finally subsided he continued to suck gently on the numb, overly sensitive organ, sucking out the remaining cum. Each time his tongue ran over the tender knob Cory spasmed and fresh cum oozed out of the tip of his aching cock. Finally slipping his lips off the numb tube and keeping them pursed, Ramon crawled forward and hovered above Cory, his face inches from his own, his eyes sparkling. Cory knew immediately his intention and as he parted his lips, so did Ramon. A semi-translucent blob of early teen cum formed in the centre of his puckered lips. As he parted his lips slightly more, the globule grew and then dropped in a shiny, translucent pendant into Cory's awaiting mouth. Another globule formed and followed the other down the thin streamer, and then another, like beads on a glimmering, silver thread. Cory trembled with the eroticism of having his early teen juice slowly drooled into his mouth, and as the eyes of the two boys met they sparkled with arousal. Pursing his lips and sucking in his cheeks, Ramon worked up more saliva and once again parted his lips, his saliva and the remaining of Cory's hot, early teen juice flowing from his mouth into Cory's.

And then their lips met in a hot, passionate kiss, their lips moist with Ramon's spittle and Cory's cum. Pressing his lips tightly against Cory's, Ramon began to suck, and as Cory opened his puckered lips he felt the mixture of cum and saliva, his and Ramon's, being sucked back into the ten-year-old's mouth. He slowly and carefully blew through his puckered lips, forcing the hot, slimy mixture back into the young cocksucker's mouth. His cock, still stiff and the feeling slowing returning, jerked with the eroticism and he slipped his arms about the young, naked Puerto Rican and his thighs about his waist, drawing the slight boy tightly to him. As their lips finally parted, the two boys smiled at each other, their lips glistening in the light of the street light, and they simultaneously swallowed the slimy mixture, their eyes sparkling and their smooth cheeks flushed.

Down the hall Billy rolled off Annette and the two lie there on their backs, their chests heaving and their bodies flushed as they closed their eyes and relished the pleasure passing over them, the throbbing between their legs slowly subsiding and a flush of pleasure flowing over their naked bodies. Juan lay there, relishing their delight as much as they, knowing not to intervene. The three of them lay there for a long time, until their breathing was back to normal and their hearts had stopped racing. Billy slipped an arm under Annette's neck and rolling over on his side, he kissed her cheek. Raising his upper torso, he leaned over and kissed her, softly and gently in thanks, and she returned the kiss. His other hand reached over and he cupped her right breast and gave it a gentle squeeze as they kissed again. Slowly it began to caress her firm, budding breast and seconds later another hand, this one reddish-brown, began to caress the other.

Again the two hands roamed over her body, appreciating her supple, young flesh and arousing her passion once more. They gently ran over her swollen belly and above her unborn child, and along the sensitive underside of her thighs causing her to squirm and to jerk uncontrollably and worry that she might harm her baby with her bouncing. Once again they stroked her pussy, causing the flaccid lips to swell once more. Again a pink-palmed black digit ran up along the sensitive, moist slit, sending shivers through her cunt, followed by a bean-brown digit that slowly slipped into her hot, wet channel. The black hand guided hers to Juan's chest while the brown guided her other hand to his crotch. Her fingers slipped about his stiff organ and slowly began to stroke it.

And then Juan was kneeling between her outspread legs, an arm on either side of her as he balanced his weight on his knees and elbows. He slowly lowered his body and a black pink-palmed hand guided it toward the awaiting lips. Slowly he felt her heat and moistness enveloping his stiff member; slowly she felt his hot, hard cock penetrating her, entering deeper and deeper until she felt his stomach pressing against hers, his loose, low-hung balls against the cord extending from her quivering, dribbling pussy to her anus. Slowly she felt the long, thick cock begin to withdraw, and then slowly probe her once more, sending shivers up her spine and ripples of pleasure through her vagina, its thickness stretching apart her lips and causing them to burn with the friction.

Her breathing began to increase as she felt him inside her, slowly building her up again, and now Billy was stroking her tits and her thighs. She trembled with the pleasure his hands were bringing her, and the pleasure the hard, long cock thrusting in and out between her legs was creating. Her labia burned and ached, and she delighted in the pulsating pleasure as her cunt throbbed in time with the thick organ working inside her. She wrapped her thighs about the brown skinned Puerto Rican, her pale flesh contrasting with his, and as his lips met hers and kissed her passionately, she returned the kiss with as much desire. She could no more deny the pleasure throbbing between her legs than she could deny the beating of her heart.

Conscious of the fact the father of her unborn child was lying there beside her watching and listening to her growing arousal as his best friend fucked her, she could not hold back and quivered and gasped with the ache between her legs, an ache that overpowered the ache in her heart. She contracted and relaxed the muscles of her cunt, working with the man above her, squeezing his dark brown cock as it thrust in and out of her body, pleasing him as a woman was supposed to please a man, delighting in the pleasure a man can bring a woman. Faster and faster her blood pumped, and above their laboured breathing she could hear the schlucking sound of his cock pumping in and out of her hot, juice-filled cunt. And then he came and she trembled with her second orgasm. Her body spasmed and she ground her groin against his as he shot his hot, thick cum up her vagina, hot spurt after hot spurt. His cum mixed with Billy's, his sperm with that of the husband of her unborn child, and she cried out with the pleasure.

And again down the hall Cory once more thrust his hips upward and clenched his teeth as he felt his cum, again twice delayed, finally erupting out of his numb, swollen cock and again into Ramon's mouth. As he trembled and gasped with the burning pleasure and felt the ten-year-old hungrily suck out his juice for the second time, he knew why Juan and Billy had chosen him to be his bed partner for the night. Despite his age, he knew how to bring another boy pleasure like nobody Cory had ever met.

Again he shared the watery, slimy reward for his efforts with Cory, and then cuddled in the arms of the older boy, knowing that he'd done good. Cory slowly reached down and stroked the preteen boy's stiff, throbbing little cock in appreciation, sending shivers of delight through his slender body. The two boys glanced at each other with pleasure-filled eyes and kissed in the light of the street light. It was a long, lingering kiss and their hands gently caressed each other's naked body. Downstairs they could hear the strumming of a cuatro and the rhythmic beat of a bombas as one of his uncles began to sing a beautiful Latino love song. As their lips parted, Ramon reached up to the plate on the window sill.

"We still have six ostiones each," he said, dropping one in his mouth and feeding the other to Cory.

Chapter Forty-One

— Ft —

Thanks to Billy for suggesting the plot in this story and the character of Darien Wilson.

Marian Wilson looked at herself in the hallway mirror for the tenth time. She was feeling as giddy as a school girl on her first date, and as worried about her appearance. Fortunately Matt had left early that morning while she was still asleep on an overnight camping trip with Nat Wilson and wasn't around to poke fun at her anxiety about a simple night out with whom he'd begun calling her young awe-struck admirer, and Cory was having a Friday/Saturday night sleep over at his new friend's, Dominic Halder's, and wasn't there to see his mother's angst as if she were his older teenage sister. As she studied the image in the mirror critically, she decided the dress she'd selected was too tight and too revealing. Her date after all was only fifteen. Well, he wasn't really a date. Sure, he had asked her out that evening, and there were just the two of them, and he had bought her flowers, a dozen roses, which had arrived an hour ago. She glanced at the flowers in the vase. They were beautiful. She looked back at her image. Perhaps if she put a shawl over her shoulders. She had a beautiful white lace with a design in gold thread that Matt had bought her for her thirty-fourth birthday that would be perfect with the dress and would cover up her breasts. Or, she could change dresses. The one she was wearing had been her third choice. The first had been too ordinary and made her look like a mother and wife, which of course she was but she didn't have to look the part, and the second was too formal and businesslike, making her look like a corporate executive. This one would have to do, and besides, a shawl solved the problem of choosing a necklace. Each one she'd put on had drawn attention to her cleavage, which under any other circumstance other than tonight she would not have had a problem with.

Throwing the shawl over her shoulders and looking in the mirror again, she decided without a necklace she looked incomplete. The silver one with the diamond pendant and matching earrings went nice with that dress, but they were expensive and might embarrass her date. She knew Darien came from a rich family and had a generous spending allowance, but she didn't want to overdress. She settled for the short string of pearls. It didn't hang down and it drew attention to her neck, not what was below. She looked at her image again and wondered if maybe she shouldn't have worn any lipstick or makeup. She had put it on sparingly. Going without any makeup had made her look pallid in her red dress. Maybe she shouldn't have put on the eyeshadow. The doorbell rang, putting her out of her misery. Inhaling nervously, she opened the door.

Darien was a tall boy for his age, five-foot-seven-and-a-half [1.71m], and mature looking with his perfectly groomed hair, high cheekbones and strong chin, and he always dressed fashionably, but even knowing that did not prepare Marian for the handsome young man standing at the door. He was no boy, and he was absolutely dashing. His black suit was tailor-made, not something he'd picked up off the rack, and it and his powder blue silk shirt were both from Armani, and top of the line. Even his silk bow tie had to have cost a pretty sum. His layered, jet black hair was gelled and combed back, not a strand out of place, and his shoes so highly polished you could likely see your reflection in them. His downy as of yet unshaven cheeks and smooth, crimson lips, however, revealed his true age.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," he observed, his rich brown eyes sparkling and his wide, open grin infectious.

"And so are you," observed Marian. "Has anyone ever suggested you should consider becoming a model?"

"No," he replied with an even wider smile as he blushed modestly and chuckled self-consciously, adding to his boyish charm.

He gave another self-conscious chuckle and they stood there awkwardly for a moment. "Oh, I bought you this," he said abruptly, handing her a small gift-wrapped box that he had been holding.

"Another gift? You shouldn't have. The flowers by the way were beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. They were for going out with me tonight. This is for Valentines, and for all the time you've been spending with me these past three weeks."

"I've enjoyed every minute of it." That was true. Darien and his brother had come over the past three Sundays and had spent the entire day, then last Monday for the entire evening, and each time the hours had flown by and she'd hated to see him leave. Unwrapping the gift and opening the jewellery box, she stared at the pendant and earrings. Made of rubies and cut in the shape of hearts, they were simple in design but beautiful, and very expensive. She could not possibly accept them. As she looked up at him she tried to think how she could graciously decline the gift. It had to have cost far too much, and was the sort of thing a lover gave his beloved.

"It does sort of match your dress." Marian looked at the gift again. Removing her earrings, she reached behind her and unhooked the pearl necklace. "I didn't mean you should change. The pearls match too!" he said in a sudden panic. Assuring him it was not a problem, Marian turned and he hooked the necklace for her and she put on the earrings. The ruby hung low, down to where her cleavage began.

"So are you," Darien observed, stepping up behind her and slipping his arms about her as he looked over her shoulder at her image in the mirror.

He was the same height as she was though with her hair done up and in her high heels she looked taller. Damn, she'd forgotten about the heels and that they would make her look taller than her date. Always tall for her age, she'd never have made that mistake when she was fifteen. She reprimanded herself. Their comparative heights didn't matter. She was thirty-seven, not fifteen, and he was not her date. Looking at their image in the mirror, she saw his eyes drop and admire the ruby, and her breasts. The shine of lust in his dark brown eyes did not offend her. She had nice breasts, and he was fifteen after all. As she inhaled, his cologne, freshy and spicy, like him, caused her heart to speed up. She might not be fifteen, but at the moment she felt like it. As they left the house, she left the shawl behind.

"I've made reservations at Duane's," he replied as their chauffeur opened the door of the limo for them.

Duane's. Riverside's Triple A Four Diamond Restaurant at the Mission Inn was one of the most expensive restaurants in the city. Of course when a boy-young man-is chauffeured around town in a limo and has a weekly allowance of five hundred dollars from a Trust, that he'd chosen Duane's did not come as a surprise, other than that he and his brother were not the type to flaunt their wealth. The dinner began interestingly. The waiter asked if they would like to begin with something to drink, as waiters do, looking at both but addressing Marian, dismissing Darien as the boy he was.

"We'd like a bottle of Château Mouton Rothschild Pauillac," announced Darien without looking at the wine list, "1986."

"Ah, well," the waiter replied with poorly concealed amusement, "I'm sorry but we can't serve…"

"You'll love the Pauillac," Darien insisted. "It has a wonderful flavour, a combination of chocolate, raspberries and spices." He looked up at the waiter expectantly.

"Yes, an… ah, excellent choice." The waiter glanced at Marian uncomfortably. "But, ah, well, the price of such a vintage…"

"Do you normally discuss the price of wine with your patrons?" Darien asked, his voice with just a hint of sharpness.

"Well, no, but I thought…," the waiter stumbled, clearly uncomfortable now. Darien took out his wallet and opened it. "Really, that's not going…," he began, figuring the boy was going to give him a bribe. Instead, Darien handed him a business card.

"Just give that to the wine steward, and be quick about it if you will. We are due at the philharmonic at seven-forty-five." He glanced at Marian apologetically as the waiter left. "I'm really sorry about that. He must be new here."

"That's all right," she replied, feeling sorry for him. He was trying very hard to make a good impression and to be so grown up. "But wine really wasn't necessary."

"Grandfather says that a meal without a good wine is like bratwurst without mustard. Dijon of course," he added with a smile. "I've added that last part on my own." Marian laughed and he blushed with pleasure. His conversation, like his manners, was far beyond his years.

The waiter returned with remarkable speed, with the bottle and profuse apologies. Uncorking it and leaving the cork beside Darien, he poured a sample in his wine glass. He picked up the cork and examined it and sniffed it, and then swirled the wine in his mouth. "Just as Grandfather said it was," he pronounced. The waiter filled Marian's glass, and then unobtrusively picked up Darien's and holding it below the table out of sight filled it also. He had barely left when another waiter appeared to take their order. Marian had never seen such prompt service.

"May I suggest we begin with the Chilled Seafood Presentation?" Darien asked. Marian glanced at the menu. Jumbo gulf shrimp, north Atlantic oysters, Alaskan king crab legs, and Australian lobster tail with the traditional accompaniments for two: how could she say no? "I'll follow that with the onion soup, and Duane's Chopped Salad (a Julienne trio of lettuces, red onion, mushrooms, green olives, bacon, hearts of palm and crumbled blue cheese tossed with garlic vinaigrette.) And with my rib chop, could I have the lobster mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus spears, and a side dish of mushrooms?"

"Of course, very good sir," the waiter replied with a deep, subservient bow, unable to hide the impressed look passing over his face. "And for madam?"

Marian had planned on ordering the cheapest meal on the menu, but that would be blatant. "I'll have the spinach salad, with butter and cream, and the filet mignon and lobster tail, with garlic mashed potatoes and sauteed baby corn."

Marian took another sip of wine. It was very good. It had the taste of chocolate, raspberries and spice as he had said. She would have been even more appreciative had she known it was six hundred dollars a bottle.

"It has an exceptionally elongated aftertaste, doesn't it?" Darien asked, taking a sip of his. He was not being pretentious. He really did know his wines, and his food, thanks to the upbringing of his parents and the influence of his grandparents. The conversation went by quickly and enjoyably. The food was excellent, the corn in butter and cream sauce smooth and sweet, the steak and lobster perfect, and she giggled as he speared a mushroom sauteed in butter, garlic and white wine and fed it to her. She was eating a lot of garlic, but it was not as if they were going to share a goodnight kiss or anything. He easily devoured his twenty-five-ounce rib eye. He was still a growing boy. And they easily finished off the wine. Stuffed, she declined dessert.

"Perhaps after the performance then," he said. When they delivered the bill, there was no mistake this time. It was discretely left beside him. Marian could not help but notice Darien slipped a five and four one hundreds into the folder.

It was a short walk to the Riverside Performing Arts Centre and they had time to pause and enjoy the gardens, fountains, and waterfall oasis surrounding the Riverside Municipal Auditorium before entering the concert hall. Their seats, like everything else that evening, were the best. The concert the Riverside County Philharmonic performed that evening, All Beethoven, The Power and the Glory, was advertised as 'Bad Boy Beethoven.' Darien said that it was the philharmonic's attempt to attract a younger audience based on a marketing survey that had been conducted by grad students at Cal State San Bernardino. Featuring the renowned pianist Kirill Gliadkovski and performing Beethoven's Emperor Concerto and the powerful 7th Symphony, it was a delightful evening.

"Well then, perhaps later," he said with a smile as they headed back to the Mission Inn. Later? It was ten-thirty at night. "Did you know earlier this year the philharmonic performed Jennifer Higdon's Fanfare Ritmico?"

"Which was part of the largest commission in history of new works by women composers," replied Marian. "Yes, Matt and I attended it. It was beautiful."

"It was. I attended it also, with Nat and my parents. Perhaps someday I will attend a performance to hear your work."

"You already are," Darien replied, looking at her in admiration and causing her to blush.

The Mission Inn was one of Riverside's most famous historic sites, begun in 1876 as a boarding house and renovated ten years ago and now occupying an entire city block and consisting of restaurants, including Duane's, dozens of little specialty shops and exterior arcades, a medieval-style clock overlooking the Spanish patio which included a castle courtyard and Mediterranean domes and flying buttresses, and 250 guest rooms and suites. The original owner's son had built it in stages in whatever historical architectural style that struck him at the time, and filled it with museum-quality artifacts that he collected around the world. With its narrow passageways and maze of patios, gardens and rotundas, it was like a self-contained medieval European city. Many famous people had stayed there, including the Regan's on their honeymoon.

"Where are we going?" Marian asked, following Darien to the elevator and stepping inside.

"It is a long drive back to Briarwood. Besides, I didn't want the chauffeur to be sitting around bored while we ate and attended the performance. I dismissed him when he dropped us off."

"Like the necklace and earrings. I just did it without thinking what you might want or like. Mother says I'm rash and impulsive, like Father. I just want to thank you for all you've done for me."

"I haven't done anything," Marian insisted, "and you've thanked me a thousand times over."

"I'll phone the chauffeur," he said apologetically as he took out his cell phone. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," she replied, putting her hand on his shoulder, feeling miserable for disappointing him. His gift, the incident over the wine, and now this. He was trying so hard and she was not making it easy for him. She remembered when she was young and just dashed ahead full speed. Matt had been like that too when they were dating, which was one of the many things that had attracted her to him. He still was and she loved him dearly for it.

"We can at least look at the suite before we leave," he suggested as the elevator stopped. "Since we're here."

"One of the Moorish rooms along Author's Row. I've never stayed in one, but Mother says they are the most spacious and comfortable. She often books one when she is writing and needs solitude." By then they had walked down the corridor to the room.

"Well, certainly, we might as well look," she agreed. She'd never have another chance, and besides, she'd already disappointed him enough times that evening. She could at least look. Spacious and comfortable were not the words she would have used. With a living room with an entertainment centre that included a fifty-inch [1.27m] flat screen tv, stereo and dvd player, a mini bar, and a large sofa that pulled out into a bed, a study with full Internet hookup, and a bedroom with a king-sized four poster bed, all done with a Moroccan theme with Moorish paintings, pottery, carpets and hangings, it was like nothing she'd ever imagined. "Oh my," she observed as she sat on the soft, expansive bed.

"You could sleep in here and I can sleep on the sofa. I think it pulls out into a bed."

"Good," he replied with that wide, open smile as he sat on the bed beside her. "I don't know how to open up the sofa."

That was not what Marian had meant of course, but before she could respond he took her in his arms and gave her a long, passionate kiss. Several thoughts raced through her mind, the prime one being that she was thirty-seven and he was fifteen. That he was exceedingly handsome and virile was a very close second, followed by the fact she was married, happily and with a son two years younger than the boy kissing her was, and lastly, that her loins ached for him like she'd never felt them ache before. The second and third kisses confirmed all four thoughts. By the sixth the last thought had moved up to number one. As her blood began to race, she slipped her hands inside his suit jacket and over his silk shirt. It felt so sleek and sexy, and his body so firm and muscular under it.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Darien looked at his watch. Eleven, just like he'd asked when he'd reserved the room. "Besides, I ordered us wine and dessert." He glanced apologetically at her but this time with a devilish grin. "I know. Presumptuous. I should have asked first. But you'll love the dessert, I've had it before, last November, for my fifteenth birthday." There was another knock at the door and he got up to answer it before she could object.

Accustomed to providing room service to many rich guests and their children, the waiter was not surprised when he opened the door, though he was taken aback by the take-charge attitude when he was told he could roll it into the bedroom and could light the burners and open the wine, and he could not hide his reaction when he saw the only other person present was a woman over twice the boy's age. She was beautiful, and stacked, but she had to be in her thirties. That, of course, was none of his business, particularly when he was given a most generous tip.

"Father says the same thing happened to him when he was dating my mother and for a time after they were married," he said as he poured them each a glass of wine.

"The looks of surprise, sometimes even outright disapproval, the hassles over his age when they went places," he elaborated as he handed her the glass. "My father is sixteen years younger than my mother."

Marian took a long sip of the wine. Forty-six? Good God, his mother was nine years older than she was, and she had been sitting there on the bed kissing the woman's son, and getting aroused. To be truthful, she'd had the hots for him ever since the Sunday he and his brother had come over to their house three weeks ago. The moment their eyes had met she'd felt this attraction, this desire. A second thought hit her. If his father just turned thirty, and Darien was fifteen plus a few months, his father had to have been fourteen and some when he'd impregnated Darien's mother. She took another long sip.

"It is good, isn't it?" Darien observed as he sipped his. At $774 a bottle, it had better be. "It is a Château Latour Pauillac 1990. Grandfather says it is one of raciest wines of the Madoc region. He says the vintage favours caramel, chocolate, licorice, dark cherry and roasted fruits." He took another sip and savoured it. "The review I read of the wine said the mouth is opulent. I quite agree." Okay, perhaps he was overdoing it a bit, but he was fifteen, and wanted so much to impress the woman he'd fallen in love with. Removing the cover of the fruit plate, he speared a pitted cherry and dipping it in the bowl of melted chocolate above the burner, he fed it to Marian. A bit of chocolate dribbled from the corner of her mouth and as he wiped it off with the tip of his finger and offered it to her to lick off, she did and they chuckled, in part with the arousal that suddenly shot through their loins, and in part with the nervousness that was making both their hearts flutter.

"Grandfather says everyone had thought Mother had taken advantage of my father, that she had seduced him, but that wasn't the case at all. When they first met it was love at first sight, on both sides. That's what Father says. Mother says it was lust at first sight." He smiled at the thought and fed her a piece of cantaloupe dipped in melted caramel and had one himself. "Just like you and me."

Marian choked on the cantaloupe. Putting his wine glass down, he looked into her eyes. "You do feel the same way as I do, don't you?" It was a confirmation, not a question. Marian opened her mouth, not sure what to say. She didn't have to worry about her response. Before she could speak, or close her mouth, he kissed her, slipping his tongue in her mouth. Her pussy twitched. She was about to pull away when he drew her to him and pressed his lips tighter against hers, his tongue still in her mouth, slipping over and under hers. A quiver of arousal ran up her vagina with the eroticism of the oral penetration. She had felt lust for him the first day they'd met. She could not deny that. And she felt unbelievable lust for him now, that instant, and it was not the wine or the lavish evening and all the money he'd spent on her, nor the hot kiss, though that all certainly strengthened her feelings. He began to slowly caress her back.

She knew she should stop him right then and there. She should insist he call his chauffeur and take her home, or at least make it clear from the onset that he would be sleeping on the sofa. What was she thinking? She wasn't. There could be no onset. Breaking their kiss, he dipped a sundew in chocolate and holding it between them they both nibbled on it and then kissed again when their lips met, their breaths smelling of garlic and chocolate and wine. His arms slipped about her and she slipped her arms about him, under his jacket once again. His silk shirt felt even sexy to her touch and his body even firmer than before. He pressed his lips tighter, more passionately, spreading his fingers over her back, and she caressed his firm deltoids.

Slipping his jacket off his shoulders and allowing the expensive garment to fall to the floor, she returned his kiss, and as he ran his hands down her back to her waist and back up, she inhaled deeply with nervousness and growing arousal. She was thirty-seven, he fifteen. His deep brown eyes were so sexy, his cologne so erotic. She could be his mother. He was such a good kisser. He was unzipping the back of her dress. She knew she should stop him. She knew where this was going to lead. Her dress slipped down off her shoulders and he drew it down. Easing him down on his back she half rolled on top of him, raising her hips so that he could continue easing her dress down. It joined his jacket on the floor.

As he once again began to caress her back, she untied his silk bow tie. It was actually tied, not one of those snap ons. He kissed her cheeks and neck and the top of her breasts as she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers and slipped it off his shoulders. His body was smooth and muscular, the body of a young man who watched his diet and exercised. Sierra Academy, the school for the gifted and talented that he attended, ensured its pupils had a rounded education that challenged the mind as well as the body. He lay on his back and looked up at her dreamily with those deep brown eyes filled with puppy love as she unbuckled his belt and slowly pulled down his fly. Unclasping the clasp of his trousers, she tugged on them and he raised his hips so she could ease them down. Drawing her to him, he lie there on his back with her on top of him and they embraced and kissed, cocking their heads to the right and the left, pressing their lips together as their hands massaged each other.

Sitting up, he quickly untied his shoes and removed them along with his socks and trousers. Picking up their wine glasses, he handed her hers and clicked it with his. "To you, and an enchanted evening," he said as he raised his glass to his lips and they drank.

"And to you, my charming prince," she replied, clicking his and taking another long swallow.

Putting down her glass, she dipped a cherry in chocolate and as he lay on his back she fed it to him. As he gazed up at her with those deep brown eyes, as dark as the chocolate in the melting pot, she melted with the flame burning between her legs. His lips were moist and cherry red, his cheeks so soft and crimson. He was gorgeous. They lay there in their underwear and fed each other as they finished the glass of wine. He could not help admiring her breasts amply revealed in her lacy bra, and she could not help dropping her eyes to the bulge evident in his tight navy blue jockey shorts.

"Did you know licorice was once considered an aphrodisiac?" he asked as he dipped the melon in the third melting pot and offered it to her.

"I think it's working," she replied with a smile, her body flushed and her mind spinning, not from the alcohol but from the lust that had been welling up in her loins.

"Oh yes," he said, taking her hand and placing it on his crotch. The bulge had definitely grown.

Their lips met again, their breaths with a mix of chocolate, caramel, licorice and wine and still a hint of garlic. As Marian rolled over onto her back, Darien reached over and shut off the flame on the fondu burner, another flame having been ignited between his legs. He rolled over on top of her, his almost naked body pressed against hers, and as she slipped her arms about his waist he kissed her again, firmly and passionately, and again slipped his tongue in her mouth. She quivered as she felt it again slide over and around her own tongue, and she sucked it into her mouth as she reached down and squeezed and palpitated his firm, compact buttocks. Of all the attributes of a man, she loved his butt the most, and Darien had a most attractive butt. He kissed her cheeks and her neck and returned to her lips, nibbling at them and then kissing them lightly at first and then forcefully and passionately again.

He was a skilled lover, having been introduced to the art of lovemaking at an early age and having had several sexual experiences with the opposite sex besides with his brother. That he was no virgin was no surprise given his looks and physique and his charm. His experience and skill showed as he kissed and caressed Marian, gradually increasing her passion gently and passionately and yet skilfully sending shivers of desire through her body with each intimate touch and kiss. Marian had been introduced to the art of lovemaking at an early age also, and although she had been faithful to Matt these past fourteen years, with the recent exception of Cory's two young friends, Marian had not forgotten those skills as she similarly fanned the flames of Darien's desires, being careful not to go too fast knowing the hair trigger reaction of men, and particularly youth.

Reaching behind her and effortlessly unsnapping her bra, evidence of his skill and experience, he removed it and slipped his hands around and cupped her tits and squeezed them and caressed them. Running her fingers over his smooth, firm pecs, she inhaled deeply with desire as he caressed her breasts with a gentle, caring touch. Wiggling down, he skipped his lips over them, kissing them reverently. He slipped them over her nipple and sucked on it, sending ripples of pleasure through the teat and her breast and up her vagina. As he sucked, she slipped her hand down and caressed the bulge in his shorts, now fully extended and rock hard. He was impressibly hung for fifteen, longer than many grown men. She continued to stroke the firm, thick tube of flesh as he kissed and sucked on one nipple and then the other until she could take no more. Slipping her hands under the elastic band of his underwear, she eased them down over his delightful bubble butt, and then unhooked them from his stiff pole and drew them down in front.

Sitting up on the bed, she drew his underwear off and sat there in just her panties and nylons and took in his beauty. He was a Greek god, a god with a smooth, sculptured, athletic body, gorgeous jet black hair, and below a silky pubic bush a long, firm cock with full, low-hung balls. She trembled with arousal at just the sight of him, youthful and full of life, his moist, deep brown eyes filled with lust, his manhood standing up proud and firm, for despite his age he was very much a man. Their eyes locked, she slowly rolled down first one nylon and then the other and dropped them on the floor beside his underwear. His eyes slowly lowered and his chest rose and fell with growing desire as she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic band of her panties and slowly began to ease them down, revealing her curly auburn hairs and then her swollen, aroused pussy.

Dropping her panties beside his underwear, she laid down on top of him and they embraced and kissed, totally naked now, their passions ignited and desire burning in their loins. Their kisses were forceful and filled with lust, their caresses firm and eager. He drew her tight against him, delighting in the firmness of her breasts as they pressed against his naked chest, she delighting in the firmness of his manhood as it pressed against her flat belly. He caressed her firm, round buttocks, squeezing them and kneading them as she caressed his broad shoulders and smothered him with kisses. His hand ran along her thighs, sending ripples of pleasure through her loins, and she ran her fingers over his chest, gently teasing his nipples with her long nails and sending pangs of painful pleasure through them.

They rolled over and he paused and reached for his trousers. Taking out a tri-pack of Trojans, he took one out and quickly rolled it down his stiff cock and was between her legs again. She raised her hips and wrapped her legs about his waist as he knelt there on knees and elbows, and as she felt his sheathed knob press against her labia she pushed out, opening up to him. She was hot and ready and he was rock-hard and eager as only a fifteen-year-old can be. He penetrated her with ease, his knob popping inside her vagina with the first try. He slowly sank down, easing his cock up her hot, moist channel, delighting in its heat and wetness as it enveloped his aching cock. He eased it all the way in, until his low-hung balls were pressing against the cord running between her legs, and paused to enjoy the delight of her pulsating pussy, and to allow her the time to delight in his penetration.

And then he began to fuck, slowly and steadily, easing his cock in and out of her aching cunt, and she worked with him, constricting her muscles and relaxing them in time with his thrusts and withdrawals. As he fucked he continued to kiss her, smothering her face and neck with hot, passionate kisses. He paused frequently, wanting to bring her to her climax and knowing it took a woman longer, though she was so hot for him that night he did not have to pause long for her to catch up to him, and more often than not had to pause so they would both cool down. He delighted in the pleasure throbbing through his stiff cock, but even more in the throbbing of her cunt, knowing the intense pleasure she was feeling. Twice he brought himself to his peak and then paused, allowing the pressure in his loins to subside. The third time he was ready, and he knew she was too.

She marvelled at his skill and his patience, and as she felt herself approaching that peak for the third time she knew that they would go all the way. She gasped for breath and tensed her body as the pressure built, as the pumping of his stiff cock in and out of her body sent spasms of pleasure through her pulsating vagina and up to her womb, as the width of his shaft stretched open her labia and sent burning pleasure through the swollen lips, as his cock brushed against her clit and sent shocks of pleasure through her groin and caused her to jerk her hips uncontrollably. She massaged his naked back as his deltoids flexed and relaxed, as his trim, muscular body rose and fell. She inhaled again the fragrance of his spicy cologne and closed her eyes as she felt his cock throbbing in her cunt. So he was fifteen and she thirty-seven. What matter when they felt the way they did?

His breath, laboured and hot, blew past her cheek as he exhaled and inhaled deeply, delighting in the fragrance of her perfume, delighting in the throbbing pleasure between his legs and in the building pressure deep in his loins. He knew she was about to cum and held back until she cried out and arched her back with the first wave of orgasm and then furiously pumped his hips, driving his rock-hard cock in and out of her pulsating pussy and delighting in the burning sensation around the rim of his knob and the throbbing of his shaft. His balls drew up tight beneath his cock and deep in his groin he felt a familiar twang and his teenage juice raced up the core of his cock and out the tip to become trapped in the thin condom encasing his organ. Shot after shot erupted from his body and he trembled with the pleasure as wave after wave of orgasm pulsated through her cunt at the same time. She pressed her body against his and wrapped her arms and legs about him tightly as she rode the wave of pleasure, and he threw back his head and trembled as his juice pumped out of his tight balls and into the pocket of the condom. Squirt after squirt of creamy juice spurted into the pocket and wave after wave of pleasure pulsated through her wet, dripping pussy. Panting and gasping with ecstasy they remained locked in each other's arms, his throbbing cock grasped tightly by her pulsating cunt, as they revelled in the pleasure throbbing through their bodies.

At last they separated and lay there in the canopied bed in each other's arms. Their passion subsided, they exchanged tender kisses and looked dreamily into each other's eyes, the difference in their ages irrelevant compared to the mutual pleasure they had just experienced and their burning desire for each other, a desire they knew ran deep. The medieval clock in the Spanish plaza chimed midnight but neither was tired. Besides they had an almost full bottle of Château Latour Pauillac, a barely touched bowl of licorice, and two unused condoms left.

Chapter Forty-Two

— Mt —

Thanks to Billy for suggesting the character of Nat Wilson and that he have a romantic encounter with Matt Wilson.

The quality, and cost, of homes gradually increased as Matt Wilson approached the Rancho Santa Ana neighbourhood of the city. There was no traffic, the sun having not yet risen, and would not for at least another hour and a half. Unbeknownst to him, as he had roused himself out of bed that ungodly hour that morning his son had just drifted off, snuggled in the arms of a new ten-year-old friend and bedmate after a wild night of sexual pleasure. The other person he loved more than anyone else in the world, his wife, he had left behind still curled up sound asleep in their bed. He smiled as he thought of her. She'd tried not to show it, but he could tell yesterday that she'd been excited about going to the philharmonic with Darien Wilson today. He couldn't blame her. To be honest, he was excited about spending the weekend with Darien's twin brother Nat.

He could not explain it, but ever since he had met the boy three weeks ago up in the Sierra Madre he'd been captivated by the young man. A young man was the only way to describe him despite the fact he was only fifteen. He was not a boy. He exuded a maturity and wisdom far beyond his years, beyond that of many grown men Matt dealt with actually. Of course that was not a big surprise considering who his grandfather was. Matt had only met the man briefly that day in the Sierras but it had confirmed his reputation as an entrepreneur and go-getter, a man who knew what he wanted and was confident he would get it. Nat was the same. His interest in biology and the outdoors, on the other hand, he evidently got from his father, a renown wildlife photographer and naturalist. The influence of the two main adults in his life had resulted in a most interesting and enterprising young lad.

The hour he'd spent with the boy in the mountains, and the four visits he and his brother had made since then had been thoroughly enjoyable. That the boy was interested in entomology and his line of work was only part of it. The boy had a quick mind and the zeal and energy of youth that was a joy, and invigorating. He dealt with too many men who had lost that enthusiasm of youth. That was one thing that could not be said about himself, nor his father nor grandfather. His youthful thinking and willingness to take risks were what gave him the edge in his job, and why he enjoyed associating with youth, taking on the position of Scout leader in the Venturers Program among other things.

It was more than just Nat's interest in his line of work and his intelligence and youthful zeal that enamoured him. The boy was polite and exhibited all those attributes of decency that many decried as lacking in teenagers today. Of course with his grandfather's reputation also as a philanthropist, it was easy to see where Nat got his attitudes and values. It was still something even more than that though. There was just something about the boy, something that he could not explain, that had him thinking of the boy when he relaxed at home in the evenings or while he was busy on the job, that had him admiring him not as a parent might admire the achievements of their child but rather as one adult would admire another. He got excited just thinking about seeing him, an excitement he was feeling that moment, a feeling not unlike how he felt as a teenage boy heading out on a date. Some might have said it was because the youth admired and looked up to him, but it was not that, though he had to admit when he saw the boy looking at him with those emerald blue eyes filled with wonder and respect it made him feel good.

The home he pulled up to was impressive but not overly flashy, sort of what could be said about Nat and his brother. Though obviously wealthy, they did not flaunt their wealth nor did they put on airs. Nat met him at the door, all packed and ready to go. Behind him was a man that he introduced as his father. If Nat had gotten his personality and beliefs from his grandfather, it was clear that he'd gotten his looks from his father. The man was strikingly handsome, and had the same curly, strawberry blond hair, long and thick and curled over his ears and down to his collar just like his son's, and the same captivating emerald blue eyes. That he spent a lot of time outdoors was evident from his tan and his physique. What was most striking of all were his youthful looks. Matt could have been easily convinced that he was an older brother.

"So, have you ever been up Mount San Jacinto?" he asked as he helped them load up the camping gear.

"So have I. Funny, I've been all over the world with my work, but never to some of the best places in my own backyard."

"Isn't that often the case?" Matt observed. His job didn't take him that far, but it did take him across the continent, and to some beautiful parts of the country.

"This will be Nat's first time up Mount San Jacinto too, though he's gone winter camping before, he and his brother, in the San Bernardino, and up in the Sierras."

"I've done a bit, as part of the job, but mostly skiing weekends when I was younger. It has been a while."

"Well, it's a topic that's easy to get me going on," Matt replied with a smile, "and he's been a great listener. I'm sure I've bored the ears off him sometimes."

"Did you remember to pack the crampons? That snow we had up in the hills a few days ago has likely turned to ice up at the summit."

"Of course, Father," Nat replied with hint of annoyance and the impatience of all teens but with a smile of good humour. "I'm not a kid. I've gone winter camping before, remember?"

"And left the waterproof matches on the kitchen table as I recall," his father teased.

"Once," protested Nat. "A guy forgets one thing once and they never let him forget!" he complained with a good-natured grin.

The comradery between father and son was heartwarming. Matt knew that many did not have such an open and trusting relationship. It was fifty-five miles [88km] to Idyllwild, and another five [8km] to the Humber campground parking area and the trail head, an easy trip that hour of the morning. On the way Nat talked excitedly about the upcoming hike and about the need for wilderness areas and the work his father did. His respect and admiration for his father were evident. Pulling into the lot just before six, they still had a good half hour before the sun would be up, but there was enough light from the full moon, and the first part of the trail was an easy climb. The deeply weathered, snow-capped summit of Mount San Jacinto loomed above them, the magnificent granite peak rising to a height of 10,804 feet [3293m] above sea level, 4,200 feet [1280m] above from where they were standing, the highest point in the San Jacinto Range and the second highest in southern California. The trail they had selected was a popular trail, but there were no other cars in the parking lot.

It had been pleasant in Riverside that morning, just below fifty [10°C] , but with the climb in elevation to the Humber parking lot and foot of the Devil's Slide Trail the temperature had already dropped by ten degrees [5°C]. It wasn't quite cold enough to put on their fleece jackets, and the climb and packing in of their camping gear would warm them up fast enough. Nat claimed to have packed the backpacks evenly as he stuffed his few personal things into the one Nat handed him, but Nat's looked suspiciously larger and heavier as they hefted them to their shoulders along with their bedroll and headed up the trail. Climbing the head of Strawberry Valley, it was a gradual climb following the contours and rises of the granite ridges and providing good views to the west of Suicide Rock, a popular rock-climbing destination. They walked slowly, adapting to the elevation and conserving their energy for the steeper grades ahead as good climbers do. As Matt had expected, they were soon sweating in just their shirts. Half an hour into the climb the sun broke the horizon and they paused to admire the sight and to take a few pictures. It was no surprise Nat had a high quality digital and was into photography like his dad.

They made good time, climbing up the two and a half miles [4km] to the five-way crossing at Saddle Junction in two hours. Stripping off their shirts, they applied sunblock, and as Matt rubbed it into Nat's shoulders and back he was surprised how broad his shoulders were and how firm his muscles. Nat, he had learned in an earlier conversation, was on the school's basketball team and was an avid swimmer besides, and jogged daily with his brother. As Matt turned and Nat applied the sunblock to his own back, his touch sent a thrill of desire through Matt's groin, much to his surprise. He smiled and brushed it off as the result of advancing old age and the fact the boy was gorgeous, even if he was the same sex. With his looks and personality he could turn on anyone, even an oldster pushing forty like himself.

With the 8,828 foot [2691m] granite dome of Tahquitz Peak rising up above the forest of chaparral behind them, they continued climbing, following the Pacific Crest Trail as it twisted north and upward for just under two miles [3km], and then took the steep branch, the steepest part of the climb and the most difficult so far, that twisted its way through the chaparral for another mile up to Wellsman Divide where the Devil's Slide trail joined the trail coming up from the Palm Springs tram station. They had been climbing for six hours including brief breaks to take pictures and enjoy the scenery and it was almost noon. The ground was covered with a light powder of snow, perhaps two inches [5cm], and Nat's thermometer said the temperature was thirty-six [2°C], but it was a bright, sunny sky with no wind and only a few puffy clouds and they didn't feel the cold.

They paused for a light lunch packed by Nat, tea biscuits with cheddar cheese, a multi-grain nut and raison snack bar, an orange, and a vitamin-packed athletic power drink. Slipping on fleece jackets and trousers Nat had packed in their backpacks, they hung the packs and camping gear from a tree out of reach of wild animals. They continued up through the subalpine forest of mixed conifers, sugar, Jeffrey, and limber pine and white fir, for another two and a half miles [4km], for a while under the watchful eye of a redback hawk and past several browsing deer who skittered off just far enough away to make a break for it if they had to, accustomed to having their domain invaded by these harmless, two-legged creatures. The snow had melted and turned to ice here and there on the trail as Nat's father had guessed, but they were able to skirt it and did not need the crampons.

Emerging from the tree line they continued upward, the snow having blown off the trail or melted on the exposed bluff, and then took the summit trail branch that headed up the granite peak for another .3 of a mile [500m]. Scrambling over the snow-capped boulders at the end of the trail to the high point beyond the trail's end, they stood in awe of the sight below them and with an exhilarating sense of accomplishment two and a half hours after leaving their gear at Wellsman Divide, and just under nine since they'd headed off in the dark that morning. To the west were Riverside and the LA basin, to the north Mount San Gorgonio, to the south and east stretched the vast Mojave Desert, and to the southeast they could see the Salton Sea and beyond into the Imperial Valley.

"John Muir said that the view up here was 'one of the most sublime spectacles to be found anywhere on earth' when he climbed up here in 1896," observed Nat as he slipped an arm about Matt's waist.

"It is certainly all of that," agreed Matt, slipping his arm about the slender teenager's back. It was a delightful view, and even more delightful being able to share it with him. Having made the climb was exhilarating, but standing there and looking at the bright sparkle of wonder and accomplishment in Nat's emerald blue eyes, his downy cheeks and lips normally crimson with youth now even brighter with the drop in temperature by another six degrees [3°C] and the slight breeze at the peak, Matt truly felt that he was on the top of the world. He had a mad urge to kiss the boy. Light-headed from the rare air at that altitude he mused with a smile.

Taking photos of the panorama below them and of each other, and having several taken of them together by another pair of intrepid hikers, and taking a few final minutes to relish their achievement and to toss a few snowballs, made from a bank protected from the glare of the sun by an outcrop of boulders, at each other, they turned and headed back down. It was a lot easier and faster going down, taking them only slightly more than an hour to reach Wellsman Divide. Slipping off their jackets and picking up their gear, they headed east down the steep Tram trail through the chaparral to Round Valley, arriving just shortly after five, barely giving them time to pitch their tent under a patch of pine under the watchful eye of a couple deer browsing in the nearby mountain meadow and to explore the valley protected by steep granite cliffs towering up out of the forest of lodgepole and Ponderosa pine and incense cedar. There were three other campers there, all setting up a respectful distance from each other and from the trail. With the descent in altitude the temperature had warmed to thirty-nine [4°C]. It would probably drop close to freezing over the night.

Starting up the little portable camp stove he'd packed up the mountain, Nat cooked their supper, a package of homemade stew with a little water from his canteen, biscuits and cheese with chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate. Having a fire permit, they started a fire at the yellow post to take off the chill and invited the others over, a husband and wife in their late forties who enjoyed hiking and rock collecting on the weekends, a single woman of about the same age who was an avid bird watcher and mountain climber who had come up by way of the Marion Mountain trail, which was the shortest but steepest approach, two longtime buddies in their thirties who were into hunting and the outdoors, and two college students in an environmental studies program at Cal State San Bernardino who, like the others, had come up by way of the tram. The wife commented about how nice it was to see a father and son enjoying the outdoors and how impressive it was they'd climbed all the way. Nat politely corrected her on their relationship.

They all called it an early night and returned to their tents. Slipping on their down jackets once again, Nat and Matt stayed up a bit longer, looking up at the sky and bright constellations and listening to the awesome silence of the night on top of a mountain.

"It's awesome warm," Nat observed in surprise and admiration as they crawled into the two-man tent. "That's so neat." They'd left a candle burning while they'd sat outside, a trick Matt had learned from his college days.

"Want to join our two bags together? Darien and I usually do. Two bodies can heat up the bags faster."

Matt and his brother Art had done the same thing camping, with the same logic, though there was another reason too, and he and Art knew it. That memory and the thought of him and Nat, together, in one bag, sent a thrill of arousal through Matt's groin. He immediately reprimanded himself for such thoughts. He was a grown man, and the boy was fifteen, a mature fifteen and devilishly attractive, with a firm, muscular body and beautiful emerald-green eyes. Another thrill passed through his groin and his cock stirred. He guiltily pushed the thought from his mind. That was perverse. And erotic his conscience had to admit.

"Did you see the look between the two macho outdoors men when I said we were friends, not father and son?"

"Some people immediately think the worse. Father says he and Mother used to get those questioning looks all the time when they were dating and when they got married, and more often than not looks of outright disapproval besides. They still do sometimes though they don't look so different in age now." Nat had slipped off his hiking boots and down jacket when they'd crawled into the tent, and now slipped off his shirt. Matt again could not help admiring his smooth, muscular upper torso and again felt a thrill of desire pass through his groin. That was only to be expected. The boy was gorgeous.

"Sixteen years," Nat said as he looked at Matt. Matt could not hide his surprise. "Father just turned thirty last month, and Mother is forty-six." No wonder he'd looked so young. "You're surprised."

"Well, at least it wasn't a questioning look, or a look of disapproval," Nat responded. As Matt removed his shirt, he was aware of Nat watching him. He wondered if the boy was looking for a further reaction to his comment about his parents, or if he was checking him out. Being physically active and watching his diet he did have a good physique for a man pushing forty. "I don't see what age has to do with anything when two people are in love," Nat observed, laying on his back and unbuckling his belt and pulling down his fly. He raised his hips and pushed down his fleece hiking pants, removing them and his wool socks. He was wearing boxers, with a blue and green diamond pattern.

"Cultural attitudes don't always make sense," Matt agreed as he pulled off his undershirt and tried to avoid staring at the boy. "There are cultures where a difference in age is considered very natural. Our western society unfortunately isn't one of them." Nat pushed down his underwear and lie there totally naked and totally open to view even if it was only by the light of a candle. As Matt unzipped his trousers and pushed them down he felt particularly self-conscious. He hesitated, and then slipping his fingers under the elastic band of his boxers, he pushed them down also.

"Same with sex," Nat observed, openly checking Matt out. It was logical. The boy was fifteen and had to be curious, and in the hiking tent they were practically touching. He had to look somewhere. Matt's hand began to rise to block the boy's view and then he decided that was foolish. The boy had seen all there was to see, and besides, he was making no effort to cover his own privates. He could not help glancing over at the boy. His bush was thick and the same strawberry blond as the hair on his head, and he had a nice size package for fifteen, a very nice sized-package indeed. "Like those two college students mentioning they had girlfriends a dozen times just in case we thought they might be gay, as if that really mattered today."

"Well, it does, for a lot of people sadly," Matt observed, "present company not included." He was not just saying that to be in with the times or to impress Nat. He believed it. He wondered what the boy was going to wear to bed, if he had brought an extra pair of underwear for sleeping in or what. He wondered if he should rummage in his backpack for his in the bag of personal items that he'd added. The idea of the two of them naked, side by side caused his cock to begin to swell. He'd better cover himself soon!

"That's good, cause I'm queer." Fortunately Matt was concentrating on what was happening between his legs and worrying about that, otherwise he would not have been able to hide his surprise at the latest announcement. "So, you want to make two separate bags now?" Nat asked with a good-humoured grin, and Matt knew he would not be offended if he said yes.

"Like I said, present company not included," he responded. That had been true the first time he'd said it, and it was true now, though the thought of sleeping in the same bag with the boy and with the two of them naked took on a totally new meaning. Feelings he'd felt long ago suddenly welled up between his legs and in his heart. How was he ever going to resist the temptation, even if the boy was only fifteen?

Nat smiled. "You are so totally with it," he observed in admiration, "just like Father and Grandfather."

"Yeah. I knew before that, long before that. I knew I guess forever that I was different. It was just that when I turned thirteen it seemed like the right time to announce it."

"Oh yeah, they were real cool about it all, but they're not stuck in the ice ages like a lot of adults, presently company excluded," he said with a grin. "And in case you're wondering, Darien is as straight as they come, though that doesn't mean we haven't messed around with each other."

"You're very open and comfortable with the topic," Matt observed, his admiration for the boy growing by the minute.

"What's the point of hiding it?" Nat said with a shrug. "It's so way better to be up front about these things."

"You are so totally cool," Nat replied, suddenly leaning over and giving Matt a kiss, not a grateful peck on the cheek, but full on the lips, and lingering.

"You're very open about your affections too," Matt observed as their lips separated. He knew he should do something, tell him that fifteen-year-old boys shouldn't kiss men over twice their age, call an end to the conversation and pretend he was tired, something. The problem was he wasn't tired and he didn't really believe what he and Nat had done was wrong, and he didn't want it to stop there.

"That's what Mother says." That smile and look of innocence and honesty doubled Matt's desire. The influence of the third significant adult in the youth's life was evident from the boy's casual attitude and smile.

"He was fourteen and Mother was thirty-one when they made Darien and me," Nat observed. He studied Matt, for his response, not his body. "You cool with teenagers having sex with people much older than they are?"

"Good, cause I want to have sex with you," Nat announced before Matt could add a qualifier, reaching over and snuffing out the candle and rolling on top of Matt and giving him a hot, passionate kiss at the same time.

Matt did not know how to respond as the naked teenager lay on top of him, his smooth, firm chest pressing against his, his moist cherry lips locked with his, his flaccid penis trapped between their stomachs and lying beside his own. Well, that wasn't true. He knew how to respond. The problem was his body and his mind were of two different opinions, and a large part of his mind was in agreement with his body. The teenager attacked like a wild animal, as if releasing emotions and desires that had been pent up all day. They, in fact, had been. From the moment Matt had agreed to go camping overnight on Mount San Jacinto last Monday he'd been dreaming and wishing for this evening, and all that day, each time he had glanced at Matt he had not been able to help thinking about what might be at the end of the day. He was, after all, young and full of optimism.

As their lips parted, he sensed Matt's hesitancy but that did not come as a surprise. His father had told him and Darien many times how it had been between him and his mother that very first time, and in a private conversation just between the two of them, his mother had confirmed his father's comments. Fifteen years had passed, but if anything, attitudes had regressed. Things today were even worse than when his father was his age. The Internet had opened up the opportunities for intergenerational sex like they'd never been before, and the opportunity to openly and freely exchange information and stories about teen-adult love along with all other forms of sexual expression. Unfortunately it had also opened up opportunities for all kinds of abuse and misuse regarding sex, and particularly between generations, which was wrong. The Internet had made the world more dangerous for the prey, and easier for the predator. Along with that, the increased awareness of the sexuality of teens and the increased awareness of just how wide the practice of intergenerational sex was had also raised the fears of a heretofore unaware population and the ire of the puritanical right.

Well, the obstacles hadn't daunted Father and Mother, and they were not going to daunt him. From the moment he'd first met Matt Wilson he'd felt an attraction toward him, and with each visit he and Darien had made, that attraction had multiplied. This day, having spent the last fifteen hours totally with him, he had spent the better part of that time fighting off getting an erection. Now he no longer needed to fight, and he let his smoldering lust burst into flame as he felt Matt's firm body beneath him, his broad, hairy chest pressed against his, his gorgeous cock growing beside his. It was growing, proof that Matt felt the same way about him as he felt about Matt, something he'd recognized from the way the man had looked at him that first visit to his home.

He slipped his hands beneath Matt's body and drew him tight against him, delighting in the feel of his thick mat of hair pressing against his chest. He kissed him again, pressing his hot, moist lips against the older man's. Matt's breath smelled of hot chocolate and his lips were sweet. He eased his hands down his back to his waist and cupped his buttocks. He had such a compact, smooth ass. When Matt had taken the lead on the hike that day he'd stared at it, the carrot dangling in front of him as the climb got steeper and his legs began to weary. Now that carrot was finally in his hands and he squeezed and kneaded the firm, compact ass he'd been admiring and desiring all day as they kissed over and over.

As Nat lie on top of him, his young lips pressed against his, his hot body pressing against him and their cocks lined up side by side and swelling together, Matt realized what it had been all this time that had attracted him to the handsome, mature youth. Years of social conditioning and expectations and age had suppressed those feelings that as a teenager and as a young college student and young man he would have allowed to be expressed. Yes, that attraction had been based on respect and admiration for Nat's wisdom and maturity and for his youthfulness and all those other things, but it had been based on more than that, and he knew now what the more was. It was pure and simple lust, the lust of a male for another male. As a young boy and as a teenager with rampant hormones he'd lusted, and he'd followed that lust wherever it took him, whether that be with his brother Art or with Marian or with all the others, male and female, that he'd lusted for. He had once been a healthy, red-blooded American boy who knew himself and was confident enough to not worry about false rules and society's restrictive beliefs and mores. Age and the constant bombardment by society had buried those feelings and suppressed them, but had not destroyed them.

Now this delightful boy, this blond-headed young man with emerald-blue eyes and a gorgeous body, had released those feelings from their confinements and had freed him, the real him, and it was delightful. He could not deny the sweet joy of those kisses from Nat's smooth, cherry lips, he could not deny the pleasure his firm, massaging hands were bringing him as they caressed his back and kneaded his buttocks. He could not deny the desire that was causing his cock to rise, and the lust he was feeling deep in his groin as he felt the boy's cock swelling beside his and pressing hot and eager against his stomach.

It was wrong, but it felt so marvellous. He was more than twice the boy's age, but as the boy had said, what did age have to do with love, or with lust for that matter? He was older than the boy's father, but the boy's father had become a father at the boy's age. Members of the same sex did not have sex with each other, or so the church and society would decree, but thousands-no millions-of men were proof that was false, and history showed that it had always been false. This would not the first time he'd had sex with someone of the same sex and he and his past experiences had done his partners and himself no harm. Those experiences and partners were, in fact, among his most wonderful memories.

Now it did not have to be just memories. Once again he could know the pleasure of holding another man's hot, throbbing cock and feeling the power pulsating through it. Once again he could have sex with someone who knew exactly how he was feeling, and whose feelings he knew as well as his own. As he kissed the boy hotly and passionately, beneath the pleasure pulsating through his groin and the desire in his heart was the nagging reminder that men did not have sex with teenage boys. But why not? Had he not observed that Nat had the wisdom and maturity that many adults he dealt with did not? Had not their conversation that night in the tent been proof of his wisdom and maturity, and his sincerity? The boy was enjoying this, the swelling of his cock the proof of that, and he was enjoying it too, as evidenced by the swelling of his own cock.

Rolling off him and onto his side, Nat continued to kiss as his hand stole down Matt's broad, hairy chest, over his stomach, and through his coarse, thick hairs to his now erect cock and dangling balls. Nat slipped his fingers about the swollen flesh and squeezed it gently but firmly, delighting in its arousal and in its strength. He slowly stroked the shaft, from balls to knob, teasingly avoiding the sensitive blood-engorged glans. He kissed Matt's chest, skipping his smooth, moist lips over his pecs and slipping them about his nipple and sucking, sending thrills through the sensitive bud and causing it to grow firm as at the same time he ran a fingertip along the rim of Matt's knob, sending even sharper thrills through his glans and causing the man's cock to jerk with arousal. Like everything else he did, the fifteen-year-old made love with a skill and finesse beyond his years.

Matt reached down and slipped his fingers about Nat's swollen organ, marvelling at the length and firmness of his teenage cock, knowing many men would be proud to have a cock that size. He stroked it slowly, reverently, wondering how many times the boy had stroked it, wondering if the boy had ever jacked off thinking of him, wondering if anyone before him other than the boy's brother had touched him there. From the boy's foreplay he was clearly experienced, and given his outgoing personality and handsome good looks and athletic body, he would have been surprised if he and the boy's twin were the only two to have messed around with him as he had put it. He wondered if the others Nat had sex with had been of his age or if any had been men. As the boy stroked him his breathing grew heavier and he put his wondering aside as he felt the lust growing in his loins. The two began kissing again, more fervently this time as they stroked each other's cock and caressed each other's thighs and stomach.

Pausing and searching for his backpack in the dark, Nat found the tube he was looking for, and hoping it was the tube of KY and not toothpaste, he opened it up. Squeezing out a dollop, he sought out Matt's swollen knob and smeared the grease over it. Reaching behind himself, he slipped his index finger up his ass, lubricating his sphincter and preparing it for Matt's swollen cock. Removing his index finger he replaced it with his middle finger, greasing his rectum and wiping off his greasy digit. Placing the tube aside he straddled the man, a leg on either side of his prostrate body, and then he slowly back down on him. His skill and experience were evident once again as he located Matt's greased knob and wiggled into position so that the tip was aimed at his hole. Opening his sphincter and holding the stiff, throbbing cock by the base, he backed up a bit more, wedging Matt's knob in his opening. He strained to accept the swollen bulb, openly grunting and panting now in his arousal and effort, and Matt uninhibitedly grunting and panting also as he raised his hips, driving his cock forward as Nat slid back. They were two hundred feet [60m] from the nearest tent, and if the occupants could hear them, then so be it. Love was not meant to be silent.

With the lube and their desire it was not that difficult a task, and soon Matt's knob popped inside Nat's rectum and ever so slowly his long, thick cock entered Nat's greased, hot hole. The young teen trembled with the delight that he'd been dreaming of all week and he clenched his eyes and sighed openly and unabashedly with the pleasure. Ever so slowly he sat back, impaling himself on Matt's rock-hard cock until he felt the man's balls against his backside and his own balls were nestled in the man's coarse, curly hairs. He paused, delighting in the sensation of being stuffed with hot, throbbing cock, and then he slowly flexed his thigh muscles, raising his body back up. He trembled as he felt the man's thick cock stretching apart his sphincter and its flanged knob brush against his prostate, and then he slowly sank back down, sinking down on the stiff, throbbing organ.

Matt reached up and grasped Nat's narrow, teenage waist, supporting him as he slowly rode his cock. He trembled with delight as he felt the heat and moistness of the teenager's rectum, and with the pleasure pulsating through his blood-engorged knob and thick shaft. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, delighting in the natural fragrance of the boy, the fragrance of youth and sweat. It filled the small tent and blanketed them as the boy rode his cock, causing his mind to spin as shivers of delight shot through his swollen flesh. Again the boy's experience and skill showed as after a minute he stopped and remained motionless with Matt's cock buried deep up his rectum as he delighting in the sensation of having his asshole stuffed and waited for his lust to subside. Matt was tempted to fuck the boy, to raise and lower his hips and work his aching cock in and out of the boy as he held the boy above him, but he too fought the desire and laid there delighting in the sensation of having his stiff, throbbing cock surrounded by hot, moist ass, a delight he had not felt for many years.

And then the boy resumed, and he laid there needing to do nothing but delight in the pleasure throbbing between his legs, and in the pleasure that he knew he was giving the boy. Eyes having grown accustomed to the dark, he looked up into the boy's face and their eyes met. The boy smiled, a smile of pure delight and of lust, and the look on his face sent a shiver up Matt's cock and he had to stop the boy still lest he shoot. Nat knew how hot he'd gotten the man below him, and that he'd brought him such pleasure brought him even more delight than the throbbing of his rectum. After a long pause, he resumed riding the man, and as he did he bent forward and they kissed, a long, lingering kiss of passion. Once again Matt felt the desire welling up in his loins, but he could not delay another time. Grasping the boy's hips, he thrust his own upward and dropped back to the sleeping bag beneath him and thrust again. Knowing how the man was feeling, Nat worked in time with him, raising his body as Matt sank back, and then sinking back down as Matt thrust his hips back up. His rectum throbbed and his anus burned as the swollen cock up his ass pulsated and ached with that sweet pleasure. Matt closed his eyes and threw back his head as he felt the pressure in his loins building and building.

And then he was cumming. He gasped and groaned with the unique pleasure as he felt his cum rushing up the core of his swollen, numb cock and out the burning tip, spurting deep up the teenager's rectum, filling it with his thick, creamy seed. Spurt after spurt erupted from his body and he gasped and groaned unabashedly, grasping the boy's hot, perspiring body to him as he filled his ass. Nat groaned also, with the pleasure of having his rectum filled with the man's seed, and with the pleasure of having brought him off. Motionless now, the two clung to each other, their throbbing union now wet and sticky, their bodies flushed with post-climatic bliss.

And then Nat was rolling off and laying beside him and kissing him and caressing him as he lay there spent and flushed with pleasure, his cock still stiff and feeling so wet and swollen now that it was no longer encased in the boy's ass. He half-consciously felt himself being rolled over on his stomach and was vaguely aware of the boy kneeling between his legs, and then he felt the boy's greased knob pressing against his asshole. It slowly dawned on his pleasure-numbed mind that the boy was going to screw him, and the eroticism of a fifteen-year-old boy fucking his ass sent a dollop of cum out of his still stiff cock to soak into the down sleeping bag. He willingly pushed out, eagerly opening up to the boy, and he quivered as he felt the youth's knob stretching open his sphincter. Now that was something Marian could never do. Thinking of his wife and for some reason his thirteen-year-old son at that very moment and the fact he had just fucked the fifteen-year-old boy who was about to fuck him sent a shiver of arousal through his entire body. Seconds later he shivered again as he felt Nat's knob pop into his rectum, and then his long, hard cock penetrating him, slowly easing up his rectum. Matt Wilson, father and husband, lay there and gasped with the pleasure of being penetrated by a boy half his age, a boy only two years older than his son.

The perversity of what he was doing intensified his pleasure and as the boy drew back he clamped his sphincter closed just as the boy had done while riding his cock, intensifying both of their pleasures. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as the boy rode his ass, slowly and rhythmically easing his hard, throbbing cock in and out of his hot, moist rectum. Nat, already highly aroused from riding his cock, paused frequently to enjoy the pleasure and let the pressure in his loins subside. Try as hard as he could, and again his skill in lovemaking evidenced by his success in prolonging the inevitable as long as he did, he could not hold back what had to happen. Succumbing to lust and nature, he plunged his cock up Matt's ass one last time and quivered as he felt his cum racing up the core of his young, slender cock and spurting out the tip. He threw back his head and sighed with the pleasure, his balls drawn up tight beneath his aching cock as he filled Matt's rectum with his hot, thick teen cum just as Matt had filled his. He sank down on the man and kissed the back of his neck as he pressed his hot, naked body against him. It had been even better than he had fantasized. Finally rolling off Matt, the two snuggled together in the down sleeping bag, pulling it up around them, and drained and exhausted, they soon drifted off to sleep.

Matt woke first in the morning and laid there with Nat curled up against him blissfully asleep. As he thought about the previous day, it was with mixed feelings. Their sex that night had been as totally unexpected as it had been wonderful. He knew Nat had enjoyed it too, which made it all the better. It had been a long time since he had engaged in sex with a member of his own sex, and he had forgotten just how pleasurable it could be. But it was also with guilt that he recalled their coupling. Nat was only fifteen, a boy. Yes, he was mature and intelligent and responsible and all the rest of it, and he had not seduced the boy, nor the boy him, yet he was still a boy and he was the adult, and he should have resisted the urges the two of them had felt. Had he been fifteen again too that would have been different, but he was not, and many years had passed since he was fifteen. Besides, he was happily married with a son not much younger than the naked youth stirring beside him. What they had done had felt great, but it was wrong.

As Nat stretched and snuggled again and slowly opened his eyes, Matt felt his hardness press against him. That the youth had a morning wood, and the look of joy on his face as he looked up at him, caused a stirring between Matt's legs despite his misgivings over the previous night and he could not help but return the smile. Nat reached up inside the sleeping bag and twirled Matt's chest hair and massaged his firm pecs. Unzipping the bag part way and pushing it down so he could see Matt's upper body, he continued to caress his chest. The cold early morning air quickly chilled them, but as he ran his fingertips over his nipples and twiddled with them, he sparked a growing fire in the tender buds. Matt reached over and caressed the boy's smooth, firm chest. It was still warm from the heat of their bodies trapped in the down sleeping bag. His pecs were well developed, the result of his basketball and swimming, and he delighted in their strength and in the smoothness of his skin. As Nat's hands began to descend Matt considered reaching down and stopping him. This was morning now, and the reality of their ages and their differences was as sharp and clear as the cool mountain air. This was something he had to put a stop to now. Before he could, the corner of Nat's lips slowly curled and his emerald blue eyes glistened as he slipped his fingers about Matt's swollen cock.

"Happy to see you," Matt replied as he returned the smile, using an old line from television, so old he couldn't recall who had said it or when.

"So am I," Nat said, taking Matt's right hand in his other hand and guiding it down over his smooth, flat stomach to the stiff organ between his legs.

Lying there side by side, holding each other's stiff, throbbing cock, the two kissed, a warm, tender, loving kiss, a thank you for the previous night and a morning greeting and all doubts and guilt fled from Matt's mind. How could what they'd done possibly be wrong? Nat slipped both arms about the older man and drew him close to his naked body as he kissed him, pressing his lips tightly against his and slipping his tongue between his pursed lips and into Matt's mouth. He felt Matt's cock twitch with excitement and he pressed his body closer and tightened his arms about his waist, pinning his hard, throbbing cock between their bodies, delighting in it's heat and firmness. He slid his tongue over and under Matt's, swapping spittle and caressing his buttocks. Matt eagerly sucked the teenager's tongue into his mouth and his tongue duelled with it as he too wrapped his strong, hairy arms about the teenager's slim but muscular body, drawing him to him tightly, delighting in the feel of his hard cock pressing against his belly.

They began to gyrate, slowly and purposefully, rubbing their cocks against each other, pinning them between them. They snuggled down deeper into the down sleeping bag out of the cold morning air as their bodies heated up. They caressed and squeezed each other's ass cheeks, recalling the previous night and the delight of having their assholes stuffed and fucked, of having their rectums filled with the other's hot seed. They quivered with the memory as lust filled their loins once more and their blood ran hotly through their veins and through their stiff, throbbing cocks. They kissed each other's cheeks and necks and then again each other's lips as they rubbed their cocks against each other, knob rubbing against knob, sending ripples of pleasure and carnal desire through the blood-engorged flesh. They moaned little sighs of pleasure as they felt the pressure slowly developing in their loins once again. For Nat at fifteen it was not unusual, and even for Matt though he was twice the boy's age, it was not uncommon.

Their breathing grew deeper and more laboured and they rubbed their bodies against each other more and more vigorously and desperately as they felt the pressure increasing. They pressed their lips together and sucked deeply as their hands caressed and massaged each others gyrating buttocks. With heaving chests and little moans of delight and sweet pain they felt the pressure in their loins reach that breaking point, and then their hot, thick cum race up the core of their throbbing cocks. Pinned between each other's body, their aching cocks spurt out their cum, lacing each other with hot, thick streamers. They gasped and quivered in ecstasy with their release, and with the other's ejaculation. Holding each other tightly, they pressed their lips together in a kiss of love and lust, their numb, swollen organs pressed between their bellies and their chests heaving.

Pushing back the top of the sleeping bag, Nat pulled his legs out and wiggling down and curling his legs and wrapping them about Matt, he began to lap up the streamers of cum on Matt's body, his and Matt's streamers interlaced with each other. The sight of the beautiful blond-headed boy eagerly and hungrily licking up their cream sent tremors of pleasure through Matt's loins, and as the boy's tongue ran over his nipples and licked the creamy cum that had laced them, Matt groaned in ecstasy. Pulling his feet out of the bag also, Matt twisted around in the low, narrow tent so he could do the same. Furrowing his tongue, he lapped up the puddles of creamy cum on the boy's smooth, muscular chest and flat stomach, licking up the boy's seed and his own. He quivered with the taste and texture of their creamy juice as he puckered his lips and sucked the puddles from his body. As he felt Nat's lips slip over his flaccid cock and begin to suck the remaining juice from his limp organ, he took the boy's cock in his mouth and sucked on it also, draining it of its remaining cum.

Finally looking up and smiling at each other, they did not have to say anything. They dressed, putting on the trousers they'd worn at the beginning of their hike yesterday, the fleece not really needed, and while Nat lit the camp stove and rolled up their sleeping bags and dismantled the tent, Matt lowered their backpacks from where they had hung them the night before out of reach of any animals. Opening the packet of pancake flour, powdered milk and dried blueberries he had slipped into his backpack the morning before and adding the remaining water from their canteens, he cooked them up a batch of pancakes, adding a couple handfuls of dried pork rinds to the pan, a trick he'd learned from a fellow biologist long ago. It wasn't as good as real bacon, but it was the next best thing. The two containers of apple juice had been nicely and naturally chilled over night.

Packing up their trash and hanging their backpacks back up along with their bedrolls, they headed off across Round Valley and down just over two miles [3km] of gentle switchbacks to Mountain Station, pausing to watch the deer grazing in the subalpine meadows and the hawks flying above the trees. They met a number of day climbers heading to the peak, the Tram trail being much more heavily used than the others. At the tram terminal they skirted the restaurant/gift shop/snack bar/visitor centre, pausing only to fill their canteens at the water tap at the Ranger Station. The temperature had warmed up to forty [4°C] and they spent a leisurely two hours along the Desert View trail, finding plenty of Sunday tourists to take their picture. As Nat slipped his arm about Matt's neck or about his waist and smiled for the cameras, a happy father and son on a weekend bonding trip, he wondered what the smiling tourists would say and do if they knew their true relationship, and the nature of the bonding that had occurred. Matt did likewise as he slipped an arm about his 'son' and smiled, but unlike when he'd woken up, he had no guilt and no regrets. It was ironic, and sad, that people accepted such gestures of affection between father and son, but only if that affection was platonic, not physical, and not under any circumstances between a teenage boy and an adult lover, especially a male lover.

And then it was back up the gentle switchbacks and through the mixed forest at Round Valley where they had a quick lunch of their remaining biscuits and cheese and picked up their camping gear. Ascending the steep trail up through the chaparral on the east slope of Wellsman Divide, they found the snow now almost gone. Descending the other side down to the Pacific Crest Trail and then on to Saddle Junction, the hike down was a lot faster and easier than it had been going up. With each turn of the trail the slope became more gentle and the temperature gradually increased.

"I'd like to hike the Pacific Crest Trail sometime," Matt observed as they paused at Saddle Junction for a break. "I hear it's beautiful."

"Oh yeah. I'd love to spend the whole summer just hiking it. Start at the south end and just go as far as we can." As the two glanced out over the valley they both had the same thoughts. An entire summer together hiking during the day and making love at night, that would be heaven. "We should come up here and climb Tahquitz Peak sometime."

Now that could be hell, Matt thought as he looked across at the steep granite dome. It was lower than Mount San Jacinto by almost two thousand feet [600m], but a steep climb that would require ropes and climbing gear. He was no rock climber, but the thought of climbing it with Nat was a different matter. Now that would be an accomplishment, and a true bonding experience. The two had the same thoughts, and as they looked at each other they embraced and kissed.

The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly as they headed west on the Devil's Slide Trail along the head of Strawberry Valley. It was shortly after three and they had only another two and a half miles [4km] of trail, mostly down hill, an easy hour and a half hike with an hour to spare before the sun went down. Pausing at one of the many viewpoints along the trail to admire the surrounding wilderness, they glanced at each other and embraced and kissed once again as if now that they had started they could not get enough, which in a sense was true.

Carefully picking their way through the prickly brush, they slipped behind a thicket of shrubs and kissed again, this time more passionately. Dropping their backpacks and bedrolls on the ground, they unbuttoned their shirts and spread them out. They kissed and embraced, caressing each other's back, desire quickly welling up between their legs. Unbuckling and unzipping each other's trousers and pushing them down along with each other's underwear, they caressed each other's naked buttocks and each other's thighs. Their lips met and they kissed passionately as their hands reached up and cupped each other's sweaty, low-hung balls and gently stroked each other's swelling cock. Sitting down on their shirts, they quickly untied their hiking boots and removed them along with their trousers and underwear.

Lying on their shirts, they continued embracing and kissing, hands massaging each other's back and buttocks, caressing each other's chest, lips nibbling on cheeks and necks and earlobes as the hot California sun shone down upon them. Their kisses became more passionate as their lust for each other welled up in their loins. Their lovemaking was desperate, nature's safety valve for the pressure that had been building since that morning. Twisting into a sixty-nine position, they continued to caress each other's buttocks as they nibbled now on each others thighs, sending ripples of desire through their groins. They nuzzled each other's low-hanging testicles, inhaling the delightful spicy fragrance of each other's sweaty balls.

Twisting and writhing in their desire like two desert snakes, they slipped their lips about each others quickly rising and soon blood-engorged cocks. As they eased their lips up and down the rock-hard shafts, delighting in their arousal and in the arousal of the other, sweat beaded on their foreheads and began to trickle down their sides from their hairy armpits. They sucked hungrily on each other's faucet and bobbed their heads, relishing the taste of each other's cock, relishing the developing pressure in their loins once again. They inhaled deeply, the spicy scent of sweat and the sweet scent of chaparral filling their lungs as their loins ached.

They came together, there above Strawberry Valley in the chaparral and under the hot California sun, filling each other's mouth with their hot, thick juices, delighting in the burning pleasure of their ejaculation and the even greater pleasure of having brought each other off. They trembled and inhaled deeply as their cocks throbbed in each others mouth, and they closed their eyes with ecstasy with the tart taste and slimy texture of each other's precious fluids. Eagerly drinking each other's cum and sucking out every drop from their swollen, aching organs, they at last twisted around and embraced, sweaty, naked body pressed against sweaty, naked body, lips against lips, their breaths smelling of each other's nutty seed. Nat was in pure heaven, and Matt was once again fifteen.

Daemon Way

Teacher

Chapters 40-42

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two