Ganymede

69

Chapters 12b-14

Chapter 12, cont'd

The door to the restaurant opened and two busboys came out to clear the other table. We waited in silence. My heart was pounding. I wondered if I should caution Ty not to answer, but to do so would have drawn even more attention. Uppermost in my mind was the thought that Heekin had no proof. There were no signs of sex for the doctors to find. We hadn't done anything that left signs. So far it was his word against mine. I had not admitted to having sex with Ty, merely that I was fond of him. There was no law against a man liking a boy, even spending the summer with him. And then I remembered the tattoos. The fucking evidence was all over him. Normal men didn't put obscene tattoos on a boy's body. The busboys disappeared back inside the restaurant, leaving us alone again.

"Fuck you! It ain't like that!" Ty said vehemently.

"Of course, you're going to say that, Ty. But the doctors will find the bruises on your butt, boy. They'll know what you've been doing with him," Heekin said with distaste

"There ain't nuthin' on my butt. He never done it 'n I ain't like that!"

Ty's face was red. His hands by his sides were clenched tightly. I had never seen him so upset. In fact, I had never seen him upset, period.

"Really? You know they can even swab your mouth to find out if there's semen in it. I bet you didn't know that did you, Terry? Every time you get off in his mouth, you're leaving evidence!"

"Fuck you!" I cursed. "Come on, Ty we're gettin' outta this dump."

"You haven't had dessert yet. Or maybe you have? I'm still wondering what you got up to when you and Ty went off behind the dunes. Maybe a little afternoon snack of boy-dick?"

"Yeah…" Brandon smirked knowingly at Ty, whose face was red enough for both of us. I wanted to hit him.

Then, Pierce gave that famous belly laugh. He leaned across the table, touching his fingertip to his lips several times.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I gave you guys hell, but I had to. I hope you got the point. Both of you!"

"What point?" I muttered. My heart was still bouncing around in my chest. It was impossible to think straight.

"See, it's like this. I already figured you guys were close to each other. The thing is… so are we, so there!" He grinned, strangely reassuringly under the circumstances.

"Okay?"

"You and Mr. Heekin?" Ty murmured to Brandon, who smiled. "But he's your uncle?"

"So? What difference does that make?"

"None I guess," Ty said uncertainly.

He toyed with the empty glass before him. It had been some time since the waiter had visited the table. Service on the verandah apparently left a lot to be desired.

"You have to be more careful," Heekin said sternly. "I hope you realize that man-boy stuff is as risky as hell. People know what to look for nowadays." He shook his head and sighed. "I don't mean to lecture, but what just happened was god-damn stupid. You could have ruined your life, Terry. Ty's too, for that matter. Maybe the risk is worth it, but you don't have to make it worse! The point is, you have to be careful. Very careful. Both of you! Ty, you can't go around telling people that Terry kind of adopted you. It raises too many questions. And you, Terry. Jesus! You of all people should have more sense!"

"But we thought…" Ty began nervously. "I mean, well, you and Brandon were…"

"You assumed we were gay! That's dumb, Ty. You saw nothing that proved we were."

He glanced around again, continually checking that we were alone. He shook his head again, this time directed at me.

"For God's sake, Terry, don't ever tell some one that you have special feelings for Ty. He's a friend's son or a relative, but that's all. Get a story that works for you and keep it!"

My mouth dropped open. I stared at Pierce. I could feel Ty's continuing nervousness beside me. He had moved from his glass to playing with his fork. He picked it up, balancing it on one finger, then dropped it onto the table with a loud clatter.

Pierce casually placed his arm around Brandon and smiled at me. It was an unmistakable look, a look that conveyed ownership, belonging, a lot of affection, and the sense that there was far more to their relationship than uncle and nephew. It was all about love. I felt envious of the way that Brandon looked back at him. Then, Pierce's arm quickly withdrew.

"The thing is that I knew you were suspicious about us," Heekin admitted with an air of superiority. "I'm not surprised. We're always giving out signals, although we try not to. I think it goes with the territory, but it still takes one to know one, if you know what I mean. For me it's a lot about how we look at boys."

"Yeah?"

There was guilt in my voice. I had gone through a lifetime of looking at boys. I had boy-eyes. It had been like that ever since I first laid eyes on Gordon Jeffries. I could seek out the good-looking boys in any crowd. Sometimes, I could even spot them in the grandstands.

"I noticed how you kept touching him in public. trust me, Terry, that's a sure giveaway. You want to go to jail, just keep on doing it."

"But…" I fell silent.

He was 100 percent right. I touched Ty a lot, in a couple of days a lot more than my father had ever touched me during the years I was growing up.

"Actually, Brando spotted you first. When you were looking at him in the change room this morning, Terry." Pierce smiled knowingly. "He said you were trying to play eye games with him. It was a clear sign that you were at least interested in boys. So I kept an eye on you."

"Oh?"

Ty smirked gleefully. "See, I told you, Terry," he said emphatically. "I said you were perving on him."

Heekin nodded. "Of course, I was pretty sure you two were close when I saw you with him at the track today. For a while I started having second thoughts, particularly when you were reluctant to talk about boys at the beach, I almost gave up hope."

"Then you guys went off by yourselves for a whole," Brandon interjected.

His wide blue eyes looked as innocent as Ty's. What was it about blue eyes that made a boy appear like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth? Only his knowing smirk said otherwise.

"Well, we won't go there," Pierce chided. "We even thought about following the two of you into the dunes, just to make sure…"

He smiled wryly, not finishing the sentence. Suddenly, I found myself wondering whether we had been followed. It would not have been difficult. There were tracks in the sand to show the way.

"By then it was starting to look like Brandon was right all along," Heekin acknowledged.

Brandon grinned at us. "I bet him a new kart-skirt that you guys were into the man-boy thing as well."

I nodded. It was difficult to appreciate that what I had been so careful to conceal was so obvious to them. They had all but told us they had spied on us from behind the sand hills. Ty standing there, me kneeling down in front of him, taking his boysex deep into my mouth. Strangely, I thought I could still taste him, that incredible sweet taste of a young boy's dick. I smiled at the memory. Maybe they had watched, maybe they had not. There was no way of knowing except to come right out and ask them. I was not about to do that, at least not yet.

"Yeah, well it looks like you gotta pay up, Pierce. Just make sure it's one of them carbon fiber ones, Brandon," I added with a humble chuckle.

"Okay, now that's out in the open we can get down to having some fun," Pierce grinned. "However, there's one thing that I still don't understand."

What's that?"

"What he's doing with you now if you met him at Daytona? And don't give me some tale about his grandmother letting him go with you for the summer because he's good luck for the team. That only happens in fantasies. Did he run away from home or something? That's serious stuff, Terry. You could even be charged with kidnapping, let alone if the cops pick him up… And if you've been messing around with him, well, let's not get into that."

"No! Nothing like that. Actually, it's true, Pierce. His grandmother gave me a paper saying I was his guardian for the summer. One of the neighbors even witnessed it. I've got it back in our motel room."

"Fat lot of good that will do you. It might help to keep the cops off your back, but that's all."

"Couldn't I use it to sign the contract for him?" I asked hopefully.

"Even if it was legal there's no way you could sign a three-year contract for him." Pierce smirked conversantly. "So the big question that I'm dying to know the answer to is, does his granny have any idea what you're up to with him?"

I shrugged. I had given some thought to that question already. I had no way of being certain why she had agreed to letting her grandson travel with me for the summer. It was clear that she suspected something else was going on between us. Equally clear, she really didn't give a damn what happened to him. Ty said she was a bitch and she wanted to be rid of him for the summer.

"I think so. Some of the things she said… well there were some comments she made about him being with me. I'm fairly sure she knows he's sexually active."

"Ha! So you and Ty are having sex?"

"Um… well…" I was not going to answer that, not after the nightmare that we'd just been through.

"I can't believe this. We come down here for a couple of days of karting, but mostly to get away from Brandon's mom and have some fun, and we run into you guys within a few minutes of arriving. Not only are you perfect for AFC, but it turns out you two are fucking each other," Pierce smirked.

Ty scowled. "We ain't fuckin'. I done told ya that already."

"Okay, so you aren't doing it yet. That's cool," Brandon answered coolly.

He scraped his fork through what was left of a thin yet expansive piece of swordfish. Unlike Ty, he had elected to eat from the adult menu.

"I ain't doin' that… ever," Ty said hotly.

"Some do and some don't, but you're probably going to try it sooner or later," the other boy quipped. "It's not nearly as bad as you think it's going to be."

"No way!"

Brandon shrugged. "Maybe. It isn't all that important. Having a tight ass doesn't change the fact you're still a fag," Brandon replied.

"Terry maybe is, but I sure ain't," Ty rebuked. He smirked at me.

"Gee, thanks a lot, Ace," I growled.

I didn't think of myself as gay. Perhaps I was, but if I was it was a different type of gay compared to Bobbie. I liked young boys, not grown men.

"Look, Pierce, I'm sorry if I misled you about Ty," I said moodily.

"It's okay, Terry. I didn't mean to scare you, and I apologize for doing what I did as well, but you need to learn to keep your mouth shut. Actually, it's nice to meet someone with the same interest, if you know what I mean."

He smirked at Brandon who in turn looked at Ty and me. I felt a little uncomfortable being examined by a boy who wasn't much older than twelve. As I watched Brandon, he casually leaned closer to Pierce. It was done so nonchalantly that it seemed innocent. Pierce's arm came up from behind Brandon's back. He smiled at me and raised his eyebrows. Only then did I realize where his hand had been for the last five minutes. He had been playing with Brandon's butt, doing it so that no one except the two of them knew what was happening.

"The question is what do we do about Ty's contract. Charley expects me to sign both of you. The way he put it to me was simple. 'Get both of them, or forget it'," Pierce explained.

His hand moved slightly so that his fingers brushed through the boy's hair, then began tickling behind Brandon's ear until he giggled and pushed the hand away.

"So? We get Ty's grandmother to sign," I suggested lightheartedly.

"There ain't no way!" Ty rejected the suggestion swiftly.

"Why not, Ace? She signed before."

"Because this is way different. Ya don't know her, Terry. Not like I do. She's a mean fuckin' bitch. I ain't nuthin' to her, that's why!" Ty explained heartlessly. He took a deep breath. "She only wanted me outta the way fer the summer so she gets the welfare checks fer herself."

Pierce nodded thoughtfully. "What about his mom then? Or his dad?"

"Who knows where his mother is? She's supposed to be somewhere in Louisiana living with Ty's father. At least that's what his grandmother told me," I answered. "Apparently she dumped Ty years ago. I don't think she wants him back."

"Do you know if his grandmother has guardianship?"

"Yeah, she does," Ty answered. "She had to go to court a year or two ago to adopt me. She only did that to keep getting the welfare checks without the Social services people always hanging around."

It was easy to imagine the woman adopting Ty to prevent people prying into how she lived.

"She sounds like a nice piece of work," Pierce said cynically.

"It don't really matter," I said flatly.

Ty elbowed me in the ribs. "Doesn't," he whispered.

"I'm sure I can get his grandmother to sign fer, for him because she wants him gone," I said hopefully.

"That's probably true for the summer, Terry, and maybe longer. I don't know her. At least given what you've told me it's likely, but only until she sees his face on the front of a cereal box."

"I don't follow?"

"We'll be spending millions on the Crunchy-Go launch alone. Ty will be doing commercials that will show on the national networks. When she figures out that he's worth a lot more than the welfare checks she collects for him, she'll want him back," Pierce observed cynically. "People have a habit of claiming what they think is theirs when a lot of money is involved."

"So what do we do?" I asked impatiently.

"You do nothing, Terry. This is a legal problem. AFC has access to the best lawyers in the country. I'll put it to them that you've been granted temporary custody by Ty's grandmother. "

"Which I have," I interrupted.

"Which you may or may not have, Terry. It's in AFC's best interest if it becomes permanent. It remains to be seen whether your paper will stand up in a court of law. What we have to do is to get you full custody of Ty before the commercials start airing. We have a few months at most so we had better get moving."

I sighed loudly. Ty's hand crept back onto my thigh and squeezed. He was worried and this time I placed my hand over his, comfortably folding his fingers around mine. After a few seconds his hand eased away and cautiously moved higher up my thigh, inching inexorably closer to my groin. I was too drunk to care whether Pierce or Brandon could see, but I still placed my hand back on the table. A thousand thoughts were going through my mind but nothing else mattered except Ty Kincaid's happiness. I did not feel in the mood for games, not even that kind of game, but neither did I want him to feel rejected. He had been rejected by the people who were supposed to love him much too often. I waited for him to touch me there, in the place where his fingers were headed.

"It all sounds good, assuming Ty wants me to have custody of him," I interjected. I swilled the wine around my glass. Cabernet had a nice smell, even if the taste was not as good as beer.

Ty's response was entirely predictable. "Duh!"

His fingers were very close. All he needed to do was move another inch and his fingertips would poke me in the balls. It was all I could do not to smile.

"I'll take that as a yes," Pierce said with a perceptive smile. "Okay, here's how we'll proceed. I'll get our lawyers to look into the situation with the understanding that they'll do whatever is needed to get you to become Ty's legal guardian. It'll probably mean paying his granny off. That's where you'll need to become involved. We can't have AFC do that. The auditors would have a field day if they found out."

"Whatever it takes," I said hastily. "I don't care what it costs."

"Maybe it won't be necessary," Pierce said slowly. "I have an idea coming so bear with me guys. You said she doesn't want him around? His grandmother, I mean."

"She gave me that impression," I replied sarcastically.

"I told yer she's a bitch," Ty added angrily. "She fuckin' hates me."

"That's good, but we can do without the cussing, Ty!" Pierce laughed.

Ty's hand pulled back slightly, then cautiously pushed forward again. This time his hand stopped even closer. Was I imagining that I could actually feel his fingertips grazing the surface of my jeans? I dared not look down even though Pierce and Brandon had to know that something was going on given the position of Ty's arm.

"Here's what I have in mind. We go to her and convince her that she's better off without him even if she loses the welfare checks."

"I wish I had thought of that." I could be a sardonic bastard at times.

Pierce smiled. "Bear with me, Terry. Now, how do we do that? Hm… she has to think she's better off with him out of the way for good… Maybe some sort of problem that will cost her a lot of money to deal with…. More than the welfare checks would bring in for a year or two. I wonder…. Maybe an accident. No, the first thing she'll think of will be how much she can make from suing."

"Why don't Terry just go ta her and give her some money?" Ty suggested. "That's all she's fuckin'… sorry… interested in. She uses tha checks to get her booze. She don't care what happens ta me. She don't care if I'm sick. Hell, when I got sick last year, it was my teacher from school who took me to tha doctor."

"You were sick? What was wrong with you?" Pierce asked. He rubbed his fingers together, his brow furrowed thoughtfully.

"I don't remember 'xactly," Ty replied hesitantly.

I placed my hand on top of his, pressing down gently. His fingers were close enough that they pushed against the bulge in my jeans. He stared at the table until he was ready to talk. It took a long time.

"I kept gettin' sick, that's all."

"Okay."

"At first, tha doc thought I was into sniffin' stuff, but I ain't. I ain't doin' nuthin' like that," Ty said awkwardly. He glanced at me for support. I nodded encouragingly.

"Hm… do you remember anything the doctor said?" I asked.

Ty's vagueness was unlike him. It sounded serious although at the time I had no reason to think it was. He was a healthy active boy. There were no scars on him other than the result of living a normal boyhood, nothing to suggest that he was not in the best of health.

Ty shrugged absently, or what was supposed to look undetermined. He was not the same boy who had been with me for the last few days.

"Out with it," I said gruffly, trying to be funny and failing miserably.

"There's nuthin' to tell, really there ain't. I was sick fer a while. That's all, Terry."

"Sick how?" I sounded like Pierce. I really did not want to interrogate him.

"I kept throwin' up, that's all. Okay?"

"What happened?" I asked gently.

"You know, you feel sick so you open your mouth and heave your guts out," he said enunciating each word so there could be no mistake.

"Very funny," I replied humorlessly. "You're not still doing it, are you?"

In return for my dumb question, I received one of Ty's 'dumber-than-you-look' looks. It was almost funny. It would have been funny if it had not been so sad. He did not trust me.

"No! Like you would have seen me do it, wouldn't you? It just sorta went away, okay?"

"It hasn't happened since?"

"If you must know it came back a few times afterwards, but not as bad," he admitted coldly. His hand was gone from my crotch.

"And yer okay now, right?" I asked nervously.

I remembered that Ty had mentioned that he had been ill before, but he was so obviously in the peak of health at the time that I had not been worried. Now, I was not at all sure I trusted what he said.

Ty shook his head awkwardly. He avoided looking at me.

"Okay, out with it, Ace. What's tha problem?"

"I been better tha last few days, Terry."

"What's been better?"

"Nothing. I'm fine, okay?" He hesitated. "The headaches, if you must know," he ended weakly.

Pierce pursed his lips. "I know a good doctor, Terry," he offered. "I'm sure he'll be able to find what's causing him to be sick."

"I ain't sick," Ty argued. He blinked, then shook his head.

"What's the matter?" I asked gently.

"There ain't nuthin' tha fuckin' matter! Except ya keep askin' dumb-ass questions."

I hated to hear that. I glanced across the table to Pierce. His arm was still around Brandon's shoulder. I felt increasingly envious. I wanted to put my arm around Ty, but the timing was terrible. I could sense the gap between us, yawning wider and wider with everything I said. It would keep on getting larger until we were apart, until it was no longer Ty and Terry against the world. It was Brandon who helped me reach across the chasm.

"Maybe you guys should go for a walk or something?" he suggested. "That's what we do when we have a fight."

"We ain't fighting," Ty rebuked.

"But it's a good idea," I said. "Come on, babe."

"Don't call me babe!"

"Okay. Ace then?"

Ty grimaced and shoved his chair back so that the legs scraped loudly on the floor. He bolted ahead of me, leading the way down the stairs at the far end of the verandah. There was a distance of a hundred yards before we were out of the thick clumps wire-like grass. Then, we walked on sand. Ty was ahead, but by the time we reached the water, he had slowed down and I had caught up to him.

The ocean glistened under the moonlight, white foam frothing like a latte machine. I reached out for his hand. His fingers clenched mine, binding us together.

"You wanna talk 'bout it?" I asked quietly.

"No."

"That's okay. I like being alone with you."

He sighed and shook his head. "Terry…"

"Yeah?"

"I hate her so much. I don't want to ever go back there."

"I know, Ace."

"I miss Paul and all, but…"

He sniffed loudly, trying hard not to burst into tears. Crying was not something that Ty Kincaid did.

"You know I love you," I said awkwardly.

"Yeah, I know." His head drooped. He sighed again. "I'm not blind ya know."

"Neither am I."

He looked up slowly. His eyes flickered with recognition. He started to say something. A wave crashed. I didn't hear what he said.

"Would you mind repeating that?"

He smiled shyly. "I said I love you." It was little more than a whisper.

"Not loud enough."

"I love you," he repeated. "Ya want me ta shout it out?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea. Pierce would probably give us another lecture."

"Yeah, probably," Ty agreed.

"Now we got that I love you stuff out of the way, you want to tell me what the problem is?"

Ty shook his head. I gave him a 'you-had-better-tell-me-because-I-am-serious' look. He shook his head again. His feet scuffed in the sand. Another wave broke with a roar.

"It's 'cause of what she gives me, that's all," he muttered.

"What does she give you?" I asked with a sense of trepidation that bordered on irrational.

"Nuthin! Okay."

Ty shivered. It wasn't that cold. There was a little spray in the air. He was frightened. I rested my hand on his shoulder.

"Ty? Please?" I could hear myself begging.

"It's nuthin' Terry!"

"Ty, did you ever tell anyone else?" I asked gently.

Ty shook his head.

"Do you trust me?"

"Duh! Yeah, of course I trust you," Ty said adamantly. He swallowed, then gnawed on his lower lip. "I cain't tell you, Terry."

"Why not? Why can't you tell me?"

"'cause. 'cause… I'm… I just cain't, that's all."

"Please Ty?" I pleaded.

Ty shook his head. He waited until the sound of the breaking wave died away. It gave him time to think. He played another card, one that I had been expecting.

"It's okay now I'm with you. It don't matter now."

"Ty, for God's sake… Please don't be like this. Let me help you."

Even in the darkness, his face had a pallor to it that was as unsettling as what he said, or what he did not say. Then, his eyes closed. I was locked out. That there was nothing that I could say or do made me feel that our relationship, having barely begun, was ending. Almost a minute passed. I wanted to take him in my arms, ravish him right there at the water's edge, cover his naked body with foam, use it as lubricant. I needed to make love to him, to prove how much I loved him. But love was more than that.

"I love you," I reminded him.

"Sometimes I puked so bad, Terry," Ty said quietly. "It was like my guts was comin' out my mouth."

"Why were you throwing up?" I asked curiously.

"'cause a tha medicine she gave me," Ty whispered. He shivered again. "I had ta take it by lickin' it off a teaspoon. I always got sick afterwards."

The bold audacious boy was gone. He needed me as much, more than I needed him. It was a very different side to him, a side that I liked. I felt like a friend, a father, someone who would always be by his side to help him through life.

"What medicine did she give you, Ty? Do you remember what it was for?" I asked in a gentle almost unfamiliar voice. It did not sound like my voice at all.

"She got it from one of her friends… from where she worked."

"Ya mean drugs?" I asked awkwardly.

"It weren't that, Terry. It was some kinda herb only it didn't come from no health food store. Her friend made it up from stuff she found, I guess. I know some it came from some kinda poisonous plant 'cause she used to say that takin' too much of it could kill ya."

"Do you remember what else was in it?"

Ty shook his head briefly. "She didn't even know, Terry. She ain't all that smart. Mostly, if someone fuckin' told her somethin', she'd believe it, no matter what." He let out a deep sigh. "She made me take it every fuckin' night 'fore dinner."

It made no sense at all. "This stuff made you throw up?" I queried.

"Not always. It hurt awful when I had ta go."

"Huh? Where did you go?"

Ty smiled weakly. "Sometimes I think yer dumber than me. Go, like as it crap."

"Oh."

"It was awful, Terry. Lotsa times there was blood in it."

"God no."

"I didn't want ta swallow it, but sometimes I got so hungry… She wouldn't give me dinner unless I took tha medicine first. It smelled so bad, and it looked gross. There was this muck floatin' in it."

"Oh God!" I clenched his hand in mine, holding tightly.

Part of me, the human part, argued that it could not be true, but deep down inside I knew otherwise. I had seen the trailer, the garbage strewn around. I could that something wasn't right as soon as I saw the trailer. The smell from the waste treatment plant was only part of the problem. My intuition was reliable. Whatever it was, a feeling had told me that something was very wrong in the place that Ty called home.

"Sometimes…" He stopped and took a deep breath. "Sometimes I puked before I crapped it out. Then…"

"Then what, Ty?"

"She… then… then she said I was constipated, Terry…"

He stopped, his slender shoulders rising and falling erratically as he took one quick breath after another. The ocean and the graceful arc of beach in the moonlight were as beautiful as anything I had ever seen. And the boy I loved was close to tears.

He tried again. "So… so that's when…" He swallowed, clamping his lips to hold back.

"Ty, please?"

"Terry…don't! Okay? I'll tell you. Just… just don't force me."

"I'm not forcing you," I countered. "I just want to be able to help you."

"I don't need yer help! I don't need no one's help."

His voice was plaintive, like a cry in the darkness that no one heard. There on the beach there was only me to hear him. In his entire life, only one person had ever loved him. I wanted him to know how much I loved him.

"Listen Ty," I said gently. "It's okay. I'm the same. I don't like people trying to push into my life. My life is none of anyone else's business. But now I have you, I want you to always be part of my life."

"Terry… You don't know what it was like, livin' with her."

"You're right, I don't, but from what I saw, I can imagine it was terrible."

"Terry, ya don't know tha worst of it. Whenever I puked she said it was because I couldn't go… so I had to have an enema. God! I hated it so much," he said, shaking his head fearfully.

"Jesus, you poor kid."

It was all I could say. There were no words that could even begin to express the feelings that welled up inside me. Ty choked, coughed, pressed against me until his voice was muffled in my shirt.

"She always done that to me in tha kitchen, Terry, 'cause she kept the stuff under tha sink. I had to bend over tha back of her stinkin' chair so she could push tha fuckin' tube into me. God, I hate her."

He slumped against me, crying, bawling like a baby, like a little boy who was alone in a terrifying world. I hated his grandmother. She was everything that Ty said she was, and worse. Until I came along, Paul and her was all he had. He had never known anything else.

It was a long while later that Ty and I walked back up the stairs. We had talked some more, but it was about nothing in particular. Most of the time we held hands. Something had changed between us. Now, we both knew what it was. I sent Ty off to sit at one of the other tables with Brandon. What I needed to say to Heekin, neither boy needed to hear. Almost as soon as I sat down again, Pierce smiled suddenly. I glared at him angrily. It was hardly amusing. How could he smile at a time like this? Perhaps I was wrong in revising my opinion of him.

"You were gone for nearly half an hour so I assume you guys were busy having fun in the sand," Pierce remarked with a smirk that said 'fun' really meant 'hot and heavy sex'.

I smiled weakly. "I wish." I breathed out. "Jesus. You wouldn't believe how lousy the poor little guy's life has been."

"Try me."

I sighed. "At least' now I understand why he hates his grandmother so much."

I told him what Ty had said to me on the beach. He listened silently, shaking his head every few seconds in disbelief.

"I knew there are people like that out there like her because you hear about them every so often, but I've never met one, or anyone who's suffered," he finally said.

"Me too. My father could be pretty mean sometimes too, but he never hurt me other the occasion whack when I stepped out of line."

"You realize that what Ty has told you gives us the opening we need, Terry."

"Meaning what?" I demanded.

"Meaning we can play this to our advantage, Terry. By the time our people have finished with her, she'll be glad to hand him over to you. I don't think she'll stand in the way of you adopting him."

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

"First thing, we're going to need proof that would stand up in court."

I had a mental image of dragging Ty through the courts. I shuddered at the thought. Even worse would be hearings with child welfare officials. Judging by the stories on CNN, Florida's child welfare system had to be amongst the worst in the country. I was not going to do that to him.

"No! I won't do that to him."

"I don't think it'll come to that. What I have in mind is this. Once you finish here at Ventura that is, you take Ty to a doctor in L.A. He's Brandon's doctor, actually. He's discreet and he's also very good at what he does. I'll phone him so he'll know what to expect."

"I don't see how him having a doctor is gonna help me adopt Ty?"

"It will, trust me," Pierce said boldly. "He owes me one. I set him up with one of Brandon's friends from school. If we handle this right, the doctor's going to say that Ty's health has been adversely affected by his grandmother's mistreatment."

"So? Maybe it has been, but he told me that the headaches have stopped, and he isn't throwing up any more. What's the point?"

"The point is this, Terry. It'll prove that the bitch failed as Ty's legal guardian."

"That's obvious."

"I told you I'm still thinking this through, Terry," Pierce admitted with a smile. "It would help if I was sober. Hm… Now… What if we got the doctor to say that Ty's health has been permanently affected. Maybe some kind of serious long term damage. Not life threatening, but very expensive to treat… like, hm… kidney failure. Perhaps he'll need a transplant. Maybe even brain damage from the headaches?" he added winking at me.

"So it would be her fault because she made Ty take tha medicine?" I asked uncertainly.

"And, if she still won't give up custody, then you could threaten to sue her on Ty's behalf," Pierce suggested with a smirk. "Not that you'd get anything from her. She's probably judgement-proof. But she might be willing to agree to him living with you permanently. Especially, if you pick up his very expensive medical bills."

"I want to adopt him," I blurted out.

Pierce nodded slowly. "She might agree to that under the right circumstances. It might mean even going to his real parents to get him adopted. It's a risk but if that's what you want, I'll make that the goal for the lawyers," Pierce said. "What's Ty think about you adopting him."

"Um… I've never asked him," I admitted.

"Then maybe you should," Pierce said. "Call him over?"

"Ty?" I said nervously. I beckoned to him. The idea had been in the back of my mind ever since I had first met him, but I had not thought it through. It seemed like the logical next step to me, but for Ty? He came over to me.

"Ty, what would you think if I wanted to adopt you?" I asked in a rush.

It wasn't what I wanted to say. It wasn't the right time or the place. I should have asked him in private, given him the opportunity to think about it. It should have been more like a marriage proposal. I waited for his response anxiously.

"Ya don't have to do nuthin' like that, Terry. It's okay," he muttered. He swallowed and shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Ty…" I began hesitantly.

I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. I could hardly say that in front of Pierce. Brandon was watching us from the other side of the verandah. He knew something was going on.

"It's really up to you." I smiled, hoping it was not an empty dream.

He started to say something, but then he swallowed, pulling back the words before they had left his mouth. There was a long awkward silence.

"She's always tellin' me it was the worst thang she ever done, takin' me in. I'm always gettin' in tha fuckin' way," Ty said morosely. "I don't wanna be no bother to ya, Terry."

"Yer nuthin' but a bother, Ace," I laughed.

Laughing sounded strange, out of place. What I said really wasn't funny. It was the most serious moment of my life. I should have told him that I was head-over-heels in love with him.

"I'll probably regret it, but I want you livin' with me, Ace. That is if Pierce's lawyers can arrange it." I turned to Pierce, my decision final. "The day that you arrange for me to adopt Ty is the day I can sign the contract for him. Make it happen or else your All-American boy is gone for good at the end of summer."

"Okay! I can't promise but I'll do my best. Which is as good as saying you can count on it being done, Terry. " Pierce rumbled with laughter. "I think it's time we celebrated."

He turned, waiting for a moment before he gestured to our waiter. He came out from inside the restaurant and hurried over to the table.

"We'll take a bottle of your 1994 La Reve," Pierce instructed.

"The Blanc de blanc?"

"Is there any other?" Pierce asked. The waiter departed and he turned to me. "For forty bucks it's actually a very good wine, Terry."

I nodded absently. Ty had not said either way whether he wanted me to adopt him. In fact, he was staring out at the dark ocean. I was barely aware of what Pierce was saying as I worried about him. What was he thinking? So much was bottled up inside him. On the surface he was bold and brash and self-confident, but I had glimpsed a very different boy inside.

"Brando and I were at the vineyard a few weeks ago, Terry," Pierce went on, and on. "It drinks beautifully on release, as good as something costing several times the price. That's because there are five or six different Chardonnays used. It makes for some complex base flavors."

"That's nice," I replied, wondering about what was going through Ty's mind.

Pierce reached over and patted Ty's arm. "I wish you and Brandon could celebrate as well, but you'll have to wait until you're a few years older."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just a kid," Ty said abruptly.

He sounded just a little angry, but his smile said otherwise. No doubt he had been drinking his grandmother's beer for a few years with or without her permission. He probably had been having hangovers since he was eight, but that did not stop him from pretending to be disdainful of the adult world that denied him his glass of champagne. He wandered off to join his newly made friend at the other table. I would have preferred that he sat beside me.

The waiter arrived with the bottle, popped the cork in an elaborate display, and filled two long-stemmed glasses.

"To…" Pierce lifted his glass to touch mine and paused, uncertain of the rest of the toast. "To a mutually fulfilling relationship between AFC and Team Sixty-Nine…Oh, I almost forgot. We can't leave out the All-American boy, can we? I'm glad you're on the team, guys. Unless I'm very mistaken, it's going to be quite a team."

"Cheers," I said.

I drew my glass back ready to drink, and then I stopped. I smiled, thinking of all the things what I wanted to say, mostly to Ty when I finally got him alone. Did he realize why I wanted to adopt him? It was more than being in love with him. I wanted him to be my son. My mind reeled, thinking of the future we might have together if all went well. Each of us looked forward to a very different future to the one when we arrived at the restaurant. Yet, I was lost for words. I stared at the glass, watching a myriad tiny bubbles rising.

Perhaps it was liquor that stopped my words from pouring forth? I had been drinking steadily since 3.00 p.m., first beer, then wine, and now champagne. All I could think of was how much I loved Ty Kincaid, how much I wanted to tell him that again and again, that more than anything else I wanted to hear him say it back to me. And then there was the question that was foremost on my mind. Did he want me to adopt him? If the adoption actually came to happen, would he want to change his name and become Ty Atkins, my legal son and heir?

"To boys," I toasted suddenly.

Luckily, the waiter had disappeared into the restaurant again. I glanced sideways, to the other side of the verandah, seeing his small blond head, the straggling rat's tail curling from behind the back of his neck.

"And to one boy in particular," I added softly.

Pierce smiled and glanced from me to Brandon and Ty, and then back to me. "I'm glad you feel that way, Terry. It gets a bit lonely sometimes. There aren't a lot of men like us around, and the smart ones learn to keep a low profile."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," I said seriously.

"You'd better. I hope it all works out for you and Ty. I know the people at AFC will give it their best shot. I'm willing to try anything, even if it means going to his real parents." For some reason he looked pointedly at me. "Ty's a lucky boy, Terry."

"Huh?" I muttered.

Pierce smiled again. There was something about him that I did not like. Perhaps the look on his face, the way his eyes had stayed too long on Ty, the tone of his voice. Perhaps it was merely a matter of too much beer and wine. I wondered whether I would be sober enough to drive home even as Pierce refilled my glass.

Chapter 13

The seagulls went away at night. One had to wonder where they went to. Somewhere out to sea, perhaps, swallowed up by that nearly black expanse, or somewhere on land where they could gather in hordes for there was always safety in numbers especially when existence was tenuous at best. Wherever they went to it would be to rest until dawn released them to forage for food, breed, and screech as they soared and wheeled overhead. That quiet peaceful darkness, interrupted only by the sound of waves breaking, provided lonely reassurance that all was right with the world.

I was in love. I knew that I was, if only because I could not take my eyes away from Ty for more than a few seconds before I felt empty. He provided my reason to live, he was the cause of my existence, the source of my happiness. I loved everything about him. The way his hands moved when he talked, his quick gestures, the melodious sound of his voice from the other side of the verandah, his casual attentiveness to Brandon, and those constant glances back at me to make sure that I was still paying attention to him.

After consuming most of two six-packs of beer, the best part of two bottles of wine, and all of a bottle of champagne, Pierce and I finally decided it was time to stop drinking. It was a little late to stop, some might even say much too late. It was nearly ten p.m. by my watch. We had been drinking steadily since finishing at the kart track. The realization that I was drunk sank in as soon as I started to get up from the table. I swayed slightly, feeling a bit like an over-sized SUV at high speed. I stopped, primarily to regain my balance, then took a few paces following after Heekin, dulledly trying to decide at what point during the evening that the floor had tilted. Ty and Brandon got up from their table and followed behind me, giggling. It was good to hear Ty laughing again, even if it was at my expense. He knew why I was swaying as I walked.

"Yer staggerin' a tad, ain't ya Terry?" Ty remarked in a teasing came-from-Texas voice that finally got my attention.

I turned around and scowled, which only served to promote strangled juvenile giggles from both of them. Ty poked his tongue out at me, as bold as ever.

"He isn't the only one who hit the bottle pretty hard tonight, that's for sure," Brandon piped in.

"Yeah, they're both drunk as skunks. I reckon Terry's gonna have a killer headache tomorrow."

That from Ty, who had watched his grandmother stack beer cans into pyramids that reached almost to the ceiling of their trailer while she tried to poison him with some sort of home remedy for an ailment that he never had in the first place. No wonder he referred to her as a 'fucking bitch'. Just thinking about what she had done to him was enough to make me furious. Perhaps she had inflicted her cruelty when she was drunk, which made me feel no better or worse about it, but which struck at the heart of my self-respect because I was drunk. Still, as I awkwardly made my way across the verandah and into the restaurant, I tried to hold my head high and shoulders straight. I was not proud at that moment, but it was too late to do anything about it. There had been reason to celebrate. Success had come at last, and in a way that I had least expected it.

I owed it all to Ty Kincaid. The team had its first real sponsor and a three-year contract to boot. I could not think of any team that was so fortunate. Some had more money, especially the large teams that ran more than one driver, but all of them had to consistently finish in the first few places or lose the lion's share of their support. Deals based on performance or else had made driving a race car into an even bigger gamble. Living like that was an ongoing nightmare. So, I had reason to celebrate. The problem was that the celebration had simply gone on for too long. However, beyond the obvious, there was another reason why I wanted to celebrate with Ty. I wanted that celebration to be in private.

The boys finally caught up with me, smirking at each other.

"It must'a bin tha last glass," I slurred. "Kinda snuck up on me, it did."

"Yeah, sure it did," Ty admonished. "Ya think you can make it outta here without fallin' down, old man?"

"With or without beatin' ya to a pulp?"

He darted away, ducking out of my reach, laughing his response. Our walk on the beach seemed like a long time ago, not thirty minutes ago. He was a different boy again, eager, bold, confident that the world was his to command. No longer fearful that I would somehow love him less. The old Ty was back and I loved him so much that it hurt. I loved the other Ty as well, but he wasn't around very often.

Just inside the restaurant I stopped again to take a few deep breaths, wondering where the men's room was not because I needed to piss, but I had a conscious need to splash copious quantities of water on my face. It was a sure sign that I was pretty far along on the inebriated scale. Not that it ever helped to breath deeply or submerge my face in water. Drunk was still drunk, even if I used half of the Pacific Ocean. Finally, with both lungs refilled, and giving up on finding the men's room as a lost cause, I started forward again. Heekin was almost out of sight, following a tottering course that diverted past as many tables as possible, Fortunately, it was late enough that the place was nearly empty so the half-dozen tables that he bumped into went largely unnoticed.

He caught up to us just outside the front door, having diverted yet again to praise the services of our fine Hispanic waiter to the restaurant manager. He laughed, booming out across the parking lot like a bear in heat. That laugh of his could be off-putting at times, but he was quickly becoming a friend.

"I don't know about you, Terry, but I think I'm just a little bit over the limit," he announced to me in a solemn voice.

I wondered what the limit was in California even as he pulled out his valet-parking ticket and began waving it in the air. He was almost going to hand it over to a 'suck-your dick-for-a-dollar' youth who looked like he wasn't old enough to drive, until he reconsidered the situation. I wouldn't have let that valet drive my Taurus, much less let him get behind the wheel of a $70,000 plus Porsche.

"Yeah, like about three times," Brandon guffawed. He turned to Pierce, his face serious. "Well?"

"Yeah, yeah! I know," Pierce growled. "Jesus! I've got myself a little paragon of virtue. We have a rule, see," he explained to me. "No driving when I'm like this. Okay, well, I'm not arguing this time, Saint Brandon. I guess I'd better go get us a taxi."

He walked unsteadily back to the front door and began talking to one of the valets. Getting a taxi back to the motel sounded like a good idea to me.

"He always drinks a lot when he's celebrating," Brandon explained good-naturedly. "Usually he doesn't carry on like this, but… well…"

He made eye contact with Ty. They had become close over the last thirty minutes while Pierce and I had been plotting how to convince Ty's grandmother to give him up without a struggle.

"He likes to spend time with me without having my mom around. I think that's why he tends to overdo things, but especially when he's in a good mood," Brandon ended.

He did not sound apologetic, yet as he talked he continued to watch Pierce patiently. It was fascinating to watch them. It was a relationship of not-quite-equal partners. Clearly, there was a lot of love involved, yet it was also very unlike my relationship with Ty. Our relationship was more give and take, more about having fun and being together. In my mind, Ty was another adult, just shorter. Perhaps it was just a matter of time until that changed. I wanted us to become so close that we could be mistaken for the father and son that Heekin had assumed us to be.

"Well, he ain't no better," Ty added, jerking his thumb at me.

Although he smiled, he still sounded a little disgusted. Hell, I was disgusted at me. It wasn't often that I drank too much. It reminded me of my father. Not that he became violent or anything like that when he was drunk, because he didn't. He simply became loud, very loud. If I closed my eyes sometimes I could still hear him shouting at my mother. Sometimes they fought like cats and dogs.

"How far do you have to go, Ty?" Brandon asked absently. It sounded as if he was asking something else. Almost 'why do you have to go?'

At the time all of us were watching Pierce as if he held our destinies in his hands. Loudmouthed was the best word to describe Pierce Heekin. He quickly arranged for a taxi to come to the restaurant to pick us up and then, opening his wallet, he handed over two twenty-dollar bills to the valet, probably to deliver his Porsche to the hotel they were staying at. Oh, to have money like that. By contrast, I was wondering where I would get the money to fill up the gas tank, let alone find enough to be able to buy breakfast for the two of us. I began to wish that Bobbie was with us. He had an uncanny ability to scrounge up food.

Ty shrugged. "I dunno, Bran. It took like ten minutes ta get here, I guess." He pointed down the road. "We came from that-a-way. We're stayin' at that Sunset, or Sunrise place, or somethin' like that. It's a motel near the Mickey D's ya pass coming from tha track."

"Okay. Geez, you're a long way from there. We're only a few blocks away," Brandon said. "We're pretty much going in the same direction. We could get the taxi to drop us off and then take you back to your place."

My decision was made up in an instant. The only problem was figuring out how to get Pierce to pay for the taxi after it dropped them off, short of having to explain to him that I was almost out of money. That and the fact that I had no idea how I was going to get back to our car the next day. I was not very good at hitch-hiking. People tended to take one look at me and floor the accelerator.

"He's right, Terry," Pierce said with a mumble that took me by surprise.

He had a habit of sidling up unnoticed. He gave out a sound that sounded somewhere between a rumble and a cough, another laugh perhaps. A drunken burp? There was no way of telling. I hoped he wasn't about to throw up.

"There's no way you're driving home. Hell, it would be worth my job if I allowed AFC's newest acquisition to have a car wreck, especially when I've paid for the booze. Besides the cops around here have a habit of picking on drunk drivers."

"That's the understatement of the year," Brandon laughed. "You were lucky all you got last time was a fine. That cop was all set to put you in jail."

"No way. He was just being an ass hole."

"It would have pissed Mom right off if she found out I was in the car with you," Brandon insisted.

"One goddamn can of beer cost me four hundred dollars," Pierce complained.

"That's all you had to drink?" I asked in disbelief.

Heekin laughed again. He shook from the effort. "No way, Jose. See, I was doing over eighty on the way back from the beach and I had a can of beer open."

Brandon rolled his eyes. His expression was familiar. I had seen that look on Ty's face often enough. 'Dumber than a rock'; that was me and Pierce Heekin apparently.

The boys took advantage of the single bench seat placed in front of the large bay window and made themselves comfortable without offering to make room for us. Of course, the seat was so narrow that it would have been impossible for all four of us to sit down at the same time. I would not have minded having Ty sit on my lap, but I was resigned to standing until the taxi arrived. After a while, Pierce took me by the arm and directed me to the far side of the front verandah of the old house.

"It's been a quite some day, huh Terry," he mused. "I can't get over the fact that I've solved the biggest marketing problem of the year. It'll probably mean I'll get one hell of a bonus."

I wasn't sure whether I liked Heekin more drunk or sober. He boasted a lot either way, and he was still loud. Drunk, he was definitely the touchy-feely type. His hand remained on my arm. I didn't like being touched by middleaged men. Ten-year-old boys were an entirely different matter. I glanced behind me, observing Ty and Brandon, their heads together, talking. More than likely it was a continuation of the 'best brakes in the world' debate that had been going on since dinner. In reality, it was also an opportunity for them to show off how much they knew about cars. They were competing with each other continually, like two drivers who are good friends off the track, but on the track it was all about winning, probing for that small advantage that was necessary for one of them to take the lead and stay there. Already they were learning that the only way to stay in front was to beat the other guy into the ground. If he tried to get up, you stomped harder. If you didn't do that, he could find his own small advantage end up beating you.

"Yeah, I'd have to say I agree," I muttered absently.

"You're quite a driver, Terry," Heekin added so seriously that I had to wonder what was on his mind. "Not just on the track either. I thought I was pretty good, for an amateur and all, but I was pushing that Porsche of mine pretty hard on the way back from the beach just to stay in front of you."

I laughed, wondering how much was the alcohol talking. With over 300 horsepower on tap and one of the best suspensions on the road, there was no comparison between his car and my rent-a-wreck Taurus.

"Ty was trying to get me to race you," I admitted.

Pierce chuckled, not booming quite as loudly as when he engaged in all-out laughter.

"You pretty much had me too, until we got to the straight stuff that is. I was actually beginning to think you might had tried to pass me."

It was difficult not to smile. Any idiot could push his foot to the floor and go fast in a straight line. It was the other stuff that was difficult.

"Like that piece-of-crap Taurus had any chance against your car," I said honestly. At least it was a compliment for his car. He should have been able to leave us in the dust.

"I was pulling eighty five for a while. Brandon was telling me to go faster… He's quite a boy, that one."

"Yeah, he is," I agreed, thinking that Pierce was bragging about his nephew again. I would not have traded Ty for a dozen Brandons, but he was good-looking in his own way.

"Yes, indeed. He's the perfect All-American boy."

"Oh." The last thing I wanted to do was to talk about that again.

Pierce kept his hand on my shoulder as he glanced around him. There was no one around to overhear what he said. "You realize why he's perfect, don't you Terry?"

"Um…" I prepared myself for the litany of superlatives that he had already used to try to convince me to allow Ty to audition for the role of All-American boy. Sometimes it sounded like he had a thing for the boy I was in love with, but I was prepared to overlook that because I had a thing for him myself. From my perspective it was impossible to look at Ty and not believe that he was the sexiest boy alive. Still, I readied myself to mentally tune out. It would have been rude to excuse myself and go over to find out what the two boys were talking about, yet I began to think up possible excuses to do so.

"He's so god-damned sexy," Pierce confided after a few seconds of watching Ty talking earnestly to Brandon.

He sounded agitated, almost excited. That bothered me, more than what he was saying. Appreciating Ty's sexuality and being sexually turned on by him were worlds apart.

"I don't know how you manage to keep your hands off him. If he was mine… I'd be all over him, and all the time at that. Well, you know what I mean, I'm sure," Pierce added a little too brazenly for comfort.

I smiled. It was increasingly difficult to stand up. It wasn't a matter of being too tired to stand. I was too drunk to be able to stay in one place for very long. I leaned back against the rail. At least it didn't move behind me. I took a deep breath, and then another. Fresh air definitely didn't help. Maybe it was the ocean air that was a problem. Usually I got drunk in a motel room after screwing up a race. Bobbie didn't like me doing it. Neither did I, but I did it anyway.

"If he was mine, I'd be all over him," Pierce repeated as if I did not know what he meant the first time.

"Yeah, well it gets a bit hard at times."

I had not intended it to come out like that. I smiled at that as well. Luckily, I didn't say it too loud but Heekin still let loose another bellowing laugh. Both boys swiveled around. This time they were far enough away that they could disassociate themselves. It was a pity that I could not.

"I bet it's more than a bit hard. Man, I'd be poking that boy every chance I got." He stopped. "What you said earlier, Terry, about never being married. You really haven't been married?

"No. How about you?" I asked.

"Not anymore thank God. Used to be, though. Three times. It's hard to believe I was almost married a fourth time."

"What happened?"

"My sister moved back from D.C." he said flippantly.

"Huh?"

He smiled. "See, the woman I was going to marry, Terry… well, the main reason I was interested was that she had a cute twelve-year-old son. A sweet kid by the name of Matt."

I think I looked shocked. The suggestion that a man would get married in order to get access to a woman's son was appalling. I didn't say anything.

Pierce winked and explained. "Really, to be honest, the boy was only the icing on the cake, but deep down, I wasn't interested in her, which is why my other three marriages failed as well, I suppose."

"I was beginning to think you were a slow learner," I quipped.

He laughed, but fortunately the sound of a passing truck drowned out the raucous noise. "Anyway, when my sister and Brandon's father separated, she brought him back to L.A. It was a few years ago. He was very upset about it. Poor kid, the whole thing was an incredible mess. I spent a lot of time with him trying to get his mind off it. One thing led to another…"

I nodded. Suddenly, it sounded less appalling.

"Um… excuse me for prying, Terry, and feel free to tell me it's none of my business, but…" He smiled again. "Are you gay?"

"Gay?" I repeated moronically. "You mean if I like men, no, definitely not."

Pierce nodded thoughtfully. "Then, can I presume you've had sex with women?"

"I… um… let's put it this way. There's no shortage of pit babes," I said, leaving the rest to his imagination.

"Hm…"

"What's your point?" I asked brusquely.

"My point, Terry? Actually it's very simple. If you don't want to draw attention to you and Ty, you'll start dating. Maybe even get married. No one thinks twice about a married man hanging around a young boy, but a single man? It's guaranteed to raise a few eyebrows. And trust me, nowadays that's all it takes."

"I don't think… I couldn't… It wouldn't be right. See, the thing is, I guess what I was trying to say earlier… the thing is, well, I love him."

Pierce shrugged. "You think I don't love Brandon?"

"No. I'm sure you do," I answered quickly. It was the truth. I had watched them together long enough to know they were more than friends.

"The thing is terry, that even though I love him, I still make a point of dating the occasional woman. The main reason is that it keeps my sister off my back. Actually, she's been trying to set me up with some of her friends for a while now."

"How does Brandon deal with it?-What does he think about it?"

"Honestly? Mostly, he thinks it's funny. He knows why I do it of course. There was one time when I was over at his place for dinner. I made a point of going with a woman needless to say. Anyway, he and I made out for half-an-hour with my sister and her across the hall in the kitchen."

I laughed. "Then you're either a hell of a lot braver than me or just plain stupid."

"Neither. Brando and I have a whole series of tactics. It would have worked out even if they came in. We don't go all the way unless he's at my place." Pierce turned away from watching the cars pass in the street, looking to where the two boys were sitting.

"What he said, about you and him not doing it… going all the way, I mean. Was he kidding?" he asked pointedly.

"Um… Ty's not interested," I answered simply.

It sounded strange to be saying that, especially to another man. I wanted to add that I respected him, that I wasn't going to take advantage of him, that I wasn't going to force him to do something that he didn't want to do. I suppose I sounded resentful, and I was deep down. I resented being asked the question in the first place. It was none of his god-damned business.

"Yeah, I know that feeling, Terry. It's not unusual. But you know something, most boys are like that until they try it. Hell, it took Brandon a few weeks to get used to the idea. Then, I took him to the beach house for the weekend. Once he was in the mood, it didn't take much to change his mind. I got him properly loosened up after doing it a couple of times. Now, he wants to do it as often as I do." He smirked at the memory. "The thing is, once you've had a boy, there's not going back to women. It's just not the same."

I smiled. It was difficult to imagine Ty wanting to have anal sex at all. Even if by some stroke of luck I did manage to win a race, it would only be one time, let alone as often as I would want to do it, which would be pretty much non-stop. And once I'd done it with him, it wasn't a matter of going back to women. Not because it would be better or worse with a member of the opposite sex, but simply that I wasn't interested in them, and never had been. The idea appealed to me about as much as the idea of having sex with another man.

"You and Ty do other stuff though, don't you?" Pierce persisted.

He was full of questions. I wasn't sure what I wanted to admit to. I scratched my chin.

Pierce drew closer. He was almost kissing my ear. I wondered if he was a closet-gay despite being married three times. I had thought that he like me, aroused only by young boys. Perhaps I was wrong. It would not have been the first time I jumped to the wrong conclusion.

"Has he… sucked you yet, Terry?" he asked slyly.

"Um… No." For a moment or two I had considered telling him about Ty's promise for the night's entertainment, but it was way too complicated to explain in my present condition. Saying 'no' was a whole lot easier. And again, it was also none of his business.

"But you've done it to him, right?"

I nodded awkwardly. That much was true. Again, I wondered whether Ty and I had been spied on behind the sand hills. It was entirely possible. Pierce Heekin seemed to know what questions to ask to get under my skin.

Heekin laughed.

"Here's the taxi," Brandon interjected loudly as if Pierce and I were hearing impaired.

He and Ty got up from the seat they had been occupying for the last ten minutes. He bounced down the stairs, jumping the last few. Ty followed, but he jumped from the top step. I had a bad thought about him getting hurt, yet it was only for a moment or two. Like a cat, he always landed safely, but unlike a cat he did not have nine lives. He turned around grinning as I carefully descended by holding onto the handrail. Brandon opened the rear door of the taxi with a flourish. He smirked at Ty and said something that I couldn't hear over what sounded like the taxi's death rattle. It was in even worse mechanical condition than our rental car if that was possible.

"You two drunks better get the window seats in case you start throwing up," Brandon said with authority. He stood back to make way for Pierce who slapped his butt on the way past him. Brandon yelped, but it was all in fun.

"It's gonna be a bit of a squeeze, with all four a us," I observed. "Maybe I oughta sit up front."

Brandon grinned, pretending to rub a sore bottom.

"No need to. There's lots of room in the back sear, Mr. Atkins. You won't be squashed at all." He smirked at Ty. "I bet you won't."

"I bet I will," Ty replied adamantly.

"If I do, then you'll do it too, right?"

"Yeah. Only you gotta do it first. That's the deal!"

Brandon slid into the taxi next. He was immediately followed by Ty, still smirking and making a face at me that said something was going on, but I was too intoxicated to know what it was.

By the time I had finished climbing into the taxi to take up what little room was left on the back seat, Pierce had given directions to the driver through the intercom built into the plastic divider that separated us from him. I had a glimpse of the taxi driver, another of Bobbie's 'suck-your-dick-for-a-dollar' Hispanics, but older. This one might well have done it for fifty cents. He had a worn, worldly appearance, the kind of face that had lived a hard life and never been on top. The taxi surged forward even as I yanked the door closed. It slammed loudly, yet I had the distinct impression that it had not locked properly. I held onto the door handle with my right hand, just in case.

It was a tight fit, two men and two boys squashed together, but even as much under the influence as I was, I was aroused. The thrill of having Ty so close to be that his entire right side was pressed against me made me start sweating. Damn, but it felt good. He was warm, wiry, and to my inebriated mind, the most beautiful boy in the world. He wriggled closer, almost as if he wanted to increase the contact with me. My brain churned. I was vaguely aware of movement on the other side of the taxi. Then, without any warning at all, I became aware of Ty's arm. It had moved behind my shoulder, bringing my head towards his. He wanted to be even closer to me. My face was flushed. My heart was beating rapidly. There was a muffled giggle. It was directly followed by a mellowed groan. No, not a groan, but a loud drawn out sigh. Curious, I leaned forward, tilting my head to the side.

Brandon had his right hand cupped over Pierce's crotch. I could see his fingers, long thin fingers squeezing, kneading, rubbing at the rapidly growing bulge in the man's expensive trousers. I couldn't see Brandon's face, but I could hear his voice. He was whispering, so quietly that even a few feet away I could not make out what he was saying. Pierce gave another one of those groan-sighs. He was obviously enjoying it.

"Okay. You want to watch me get it out?" Brandon said quietly. He seemed to talking to Ty rather than Pierce.

"Ya said ya were goin' down on him," Ty jeered. He sounded animated but very nervous at the same time.

"I will. I told you I would. You bet me I wouldn't. Five bucks, remember."

"Maybe, but only if I don't. 'n don't forget I gotta see ta takin' it all tha way. That part of it ain't my idea."

"Okay, here goes. I'm taking it out," Brandon announced in a husky undertone. His excitement was palpable. I felt it too, knowing instinctively what he was going to do. It was hard to believe it was happening on the seat next to me. I held my breath, waiting, listening to the noises of the dilapidated taxi, feeling the surge build inside me.

"Here?" Ty hissed.

"Yeah. I told you I would, didn't I? Then, you have to do your part of the deal too."

I watched in what could only be called mute disbelief, wishing that I was sober. Brandon's fingers lifted up from Pierce's crotch. Without hesitation and with what was clearly a lot of practice, his fingers slipped into the pleated fold at the front of the man's $200 trousers, searching, then finding the metal tag of his zipper. It opened slowly, soundlessly. Then, Brandon's small hand eased into the gap. I had a momentary glimpse of a red sheen, from silk boxers more than likely. Pierce groaned, then gasped when cool boy-hand discovered hot man-cock

"Yeah," he sighed. "Oh yeah, Brando… Babe, that feels so good."

His voice faded. It was awe-inspiring. We were in a world of our own. Over the noise of the engine and the radio playing Hispanic hip-hop or whatever it was called, with the driver beating the rhythm on the steering wheel, it would have taken a police siren to get the attention of any of us.

"Jesus," Ty murmured. I could hear the awe in his voice, that same nervous excitement that afflicts boys whenever they see a man's aroused penis.

Heekin's huge penis had appeared through the opening in his trousers. It was already fully erect. Bloated, straining, darkened veins bulging. It might well have been larger than mine. It was impossible to tell without making a side-by-side comparison, something I was not about to do.

Brandon's head suddenly swiveled back. He glanced at me, making deliberate unmistakable eye contact. He wanted to make certain that I was watching. Unless I was mistaken, he actually licked his lips, not once but twice. His lips were wet with saliva. I had to think just to breath. And then he turned back. He leaned forward, swiveling around and even sliding down from the seat so that he was kneeling on the rubber-covered floor, facing backwards. Was it really going to happen? God, I wanted so badly to watch that huge cock go into Brandon's mouth.

But even as that thought stretched the limits of my wildest imagination, Brandon's head suddenly came forward, bending down. His lips parted. The head of Pierce's massive prick simply disappeared from sight. One moment it was there an inch or two [5 cm] away from Brandon's open mouth and then it was gone. All I could see was Brandon's cheek, bulging obscenely outward.

"Jesus!"

Ty again, saying only what I was thinking. His voice was stressed, all but quivering with excitement at the lewd act being performed next to him. A boy sucking a man's cock. Sucking it! Sucking on that enormous fleshy sausage. Slowly, ever so slowly sinking down so that there was an ever decreasing amount of man-cock to be seen and an ever increasing bulge in the side of Brandon's cheek. Then suddenly, almost as suddenly as it had happened, Brandon pulled off. Wet thick cock appeared, glistening in the dim light inside the taxi, veins bulging and dark. Lifting back off, until all of it could be seen again, slippery with saliva, shining in the passing amber street lights. Then, Brandon started grinning, his lips red and wet, and looking so sexy that my breath was taken away.

I had to wonder what going on as he quickly replaced Pierce's unsatisfied organ back behind his boxers. Yet, even as that was happening, Ty's hand had found it's way to my crotch. He groped me mercilessly, finding the erection that had formed in the all-too-brief floor-show. He glanced up at me, shameless eyes filled with merriment.

"What?…"

"Shhhh. I ain't payin' him five bucks."

He leered at me with a face that was both innocent and so full of lust that it seemed to defy reality. He licked his lips, just as Brandon had done.

"What? What on earth?…" I asked nervously.

I didn't finish the question. I was going to ask him what he was doing. However, there was no point. It was obvious what he was going to do. It was obvious as soon as his small brown hands reached to my waist. Unlike Brandon, he fumbled for a few seconds to locate the zipper hidden inside the denim, his fingers awkwardly moving in the front my jeans. Once he had it between his fingers he glanced up again, his blue eyes no longer those of an angel, but obscenely bold. He was blushing slightly, visibly embarrassed, hesitating, but he had reason to be shy. Pierce and Brandon were looking on, their expressions both avid and amused. I wasn't at all sure how I felt about what was happening. All I knew was that there was no way in hell I was going to stop him, even though I should have known better. I was much to excited by what was happening.

Ty tugged my zipper down in a series of rapid jerks, but only opening an inch at a time. I was not in a stupor, but neither was I sufficiently alert to be able to intervene even if I had wanted to stop him. I wasn't even sure that I could stop him. He was as determined as I had ever seen him. He concentrated on what he was doing, using the fingers of both hands to widen the opening. Then, another quick glance up to me.

"You don't have to do this," I muttered. I heard my own voice but with such dulled senses that I barely heard what Ty said in response. However, I saw him nod earnestly, then an awkward, quick glance at Brandon.

"Okay, but I ain't goin' down on him," he said heatedly. "It weren't part of the deal."

"Fine," Brandon said. He sounded moody.

Then, Ty cautiously reached into the opening he had created. His hand squirmed around trying to find the opening in my briefs for several seconds.

The taxi driver was one of those people who abuse transmissions. For some reason he had placed the car in a lower gear. It made the engine work unnecessarily, the exhaust roaring beneath our feet. Perhaps he could get it into Drive where the automatic would have soon shifted itself to a higher gear. He drove erratically as well, like a rookie on the track, threatening everyone who got in his way as well those who were behind. I hated drivers like that.

Ty gave up quickly, even before we reached the next stop light. Hurriedly, he pushed his hand higher, up near my waist, his fingers searching for the top of my briefs. He scooped up the elastic, scratching me with his fingernail in the process, then pulling it downward and outward. Looking down, I saw the patterned cloth bulging outward, his fingers working busily. Anyone could see that I was hard, straining, engorged. Ty grinned, glanced at me for an instant, then gently patted it teasingly, pretending that he was petting a pet.

Again, that awful grating sound as the taxi accelerated. Whenever the driver changed direction it was enough to cause whiplash injuries to the neck, and braking probably took both feet. My penis throbbed mercilessly beneath a boy's soft yet very deft fingers. Pierce said something to the effect that Ty was playing with it, that a man's cock was really a boy's best friend, and not a dog. I muttered something about pricks not pussies. Brandon laughed. The taxi lurched again, accelerating into a narrow gap that made me tense. A collision was imminent, but what a way to die. Ty's fingers felt hot, remarkably strong, as he massaged the thick shaft.

"Okay?" He was talking to Brandon.

"You're supposed to take it out."

"That weren't in tha deal."

"I did."

"So? I ain't. All ya said was I had ta play with it fer a minute. I ain't suckin' on it neither."

"Wooz!"

"Ain't!" Ty rebuked. A moment later. "Can I?"

Ty question was directed to me. I nodded vacuously, still disbelieving my eyes. It was impossible that this was happening in the back seat of a taxi, with a tequila-crazed driver, with another man and a boy watching. But embarrassed and shocked as I was, it was impossible not to be excited. Next to what had happened behind the sand hills, it was the most exciting thing that I had ever done. It send a thrill through me that was equal to anything that had ever happened to me while racing cars. I stared down, watching as Ty manipulated my briefs down and out of the way to expose my penis. It seemed huge in his small hand, extending several inches in either direction from where he grasped it.

"Five bucks if you suck it," Pierce said boldly.

"Ten," Ty responded, without even looking up. "For kissing it."

Pierce erupted with another belly laugh. "Okay, you got a deal Ty. Kiss it for ten. But right on the top. And you have to use your tongue."

"Deal," Ty smirked.

I shook my head, hoping to divert him because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, but equally hoping that he would not change his mind. To actually have his lips on my cock was almost more than I could imagine. It had to be heaven on earth.

My penis responded of its own accord as much as by any thoughts that I made have had. I was thinking with my dick, engaging in a full-blown mental workout. It flexed, bobbing up and down, eager to be kissed by a ten-year-old boy for the first time. Ty hesitated momentarily. What boy would not have second thoughts when confronted by a gnarled knob-headed beast like mine. However, if he had qualms they were quickly being put aside. The expression that initially revealed his reluctance to follow through, gradually became a smile. He examined my penis with silent close-up interest as his fingers gently stroked up and down.

Ty wasn't the only person who was fascinated by the thing protruding from my clothes. Brandon smirked, his eyes staring fixedly.

"He's big," he giggled. "You're going to get a real mouthful with that one, Ty."

Ty's head tilted, then shook in denial, although not with anything that could be called defiance. He continued to study it, as did I with a kind of detached awareness that it was somehow attached to my body. The swollen head was plum-colored, and was so different to his own delicate blue tip that it had to be disturbing. It opened at the end, a gaping crimson mouth that oozed a glistening bead of juice each time that Ty's hand squeezed on the shaft.

He glanced up again, exchanging a look of trepidation with me, yet even as I considered telling him not to do it, his head began to lower with characteristic boldness. A deal was a deal for Ty Kincaid.

It took only moments before he realized that it was an awkward angle for him, just as it had been for Brandon, so he followed the same procedure of sliding down to the floor of the car to adopt a kneeling position.

"Go on, Ty. I'll give you ten bucks to smooch him."

Pierce's encouragement came a moment too late. Ty was beyond hearing. He needed no encouragement. Like me, he had been caught up in the incredible excitement of the moment, of performing that intensely private act in front of two other people who we had known for little more than half a day, in a jolting, roaring taxi on the main street of Ventura. It didn't matter that it was his first time, at least with me. His lips pursed, coming closer, then in a rush, barely grazed across the head of my cock. He stopped when his lips were on the very tip. The pressure increased, but only slightly, not pushing down to take my cock into his mouth, but lingering as if savoring the taste. After a few seconds, his lips moved gently from side to side, tasting, sliding on the slippery film that had formed there. It lasted all of five seconds, probably no longer, certainly no less than that. It was a dream coming true even as I watched and felt it, my wildest oh-so-wonderful fantasy. It was just long enough for me to realize what I had been missing all my life. If it never happened again, I could die a happy man.

His head lifted away, but only for a few inches. My penis throbbed mightily, shining at head where his lips had been. I had an unnerving realization that the sensations were so overpowering that I might orgasm if he so much as touched it again with his lips. He still held it in his hand, three fingers and his thumb wrapped around the shaft, his little finger extending down beneath my briefs and pressing into my scrotum, right between my balls.

He seemed to be thinking about what he had done, in front of witnesses no less. At least the taxi driver had no idea was going on in the rear seat of the taxi. I kept my eyes glued to the rear vision mirror, although I was not at all sure what to do in the event that his eyes strayed up. he appeared to have his hands full negotiating between cars. It was like playing Russian roulette every time he spun the wheel, still thumping in time to his radio. I worried what would happen if he misjudged the distance. Luckily, the issue never came up.

I was worried for other reasons as well. What reasonably responsible person would not be worried when a blond-headed ten-year-old boy had just kissed his dick in front of two other people? My worry was matched only by my excitement. I had never known a thrill like that one. Not even racing at Talledaga could compare. Indianapolis for the 500 perhaps, but I had only watched that race from the grandstands. It was always different watching from a distance, almost mesmerizing until an accident occurred. It was mesmerizing for the drivers too, but for another reason. The constant adrenaline became numbing after a while. Sure I sweated until I stank, partly from the stress, but it was as if my body was literally letting off steam in the only way possible. It was something that Bobbie could never understand because he was never in the driver's seat. He made jokes about it that amused the rest of the crew if not me.

For a moment, I glanced away from the rear vision mirror. My heart was still pounding just as it had been when a boy's sweet lips had formed his first kiss on the tip of my cock. It was still impossible to believe that it had really happened. Ty had done that, kissed my cock, smooched it too for a few seconds, judging by the moisture that remained there. He wasn't the only person whose brain was running at full speed, 700 horsepower and over a ton of metal and plastic just an inch off the guard rail. Life and death had passed before my eyes, in a rush. An overpowering, bottom of the stomach, gut-churning slow-motion rush. It came out as a deep sigh, a sigh that wanted a hell of a lot more. I realized then what I was, a man who would never be content with just getting his dick kissed. At least that was true if it was a boy who was doing the kissing.

Then, slowly Ty looked up at me, not meeting my eyes. He was not normally a shy boy, but in those last few seconds he had become uncharacteristically demure, at least as I knew him. Yet, there was also a hint of a smile, and something else. He was tense, as tense as I had ever seen him, barely breathing for amid the shock was unleashed excitement. And more, if only because so much had changed with that first five-second kiss. He was being gnawed by curiosity, that overwhelming need to know more, to do more. One kiss would never be enough for him either. I could see it in his face, in eyes that would not look away. It would not take much for him to do it again and again.

We were both barely aware of the taxi slowing down, pulling in to the curb from the flow of traffic, a too-close-for-comfort horn blast because the driver had given no indication of his intention. Perhaps he hadn't been paying attention to the driving, or like Ty, he had just changed course because there was no choice. Simply, Ty had done only what needed to be done.

"Hurry up," Brandon urged.

"Huh?" Ty's voice trembled. He was as nervous as I had ever seen him. I watched him lick his lips, more than likely tasting where my maleness had been.

"We're here, Ty," Brandon answered. "You'd better put that thing back where it belongs unless you want to get us all arrested."

Ty giggled. He sounded surprised, even startled, as if realizing for the first time what was still held in his hand, although how he could not realize what he'd just done was beyond me. Then almost before his giggle ended, his eyes made contact with mine again. The horror and shame that I expected to see, weren't there, probably had never been there. Suddenly, his mind was made up and without so much as a second thought, his head came down again. It was over in an instant, but in that flash of movement, that blurred glimpse of a small blond head, his lips had opened. My penis had surged into his open mouth and rammed hard into him, into the soft, wet heat of his mouth. Perhaps I saw a bulge in his cheek. It might also have been my imagination, but whatever he did had lasted only for a heart beat before he started to lift away again. However, I had felt his tongue, that wonderful, wet, wriggling tongue that had swirled across the head.

It was like being embraced by something alive, engulfed by a slippery sponge that was as hot as molten lava. Seconds of silence turned fantasy into reality. It was not a dream. I could feel the cold wetness on the top half of my dick. He had done more than merely lick it. My eyes opened wide. It glistened in the dim light inside the taxi. I was shaking, sitting there with Ty hurriedly pushing my saliva-slicked erection back into my jeans, except that it was now as much his as it was mine. He was almost rough with it, his fingernails scraping along the shaft as he fought to get my briefs back in place. He jerked the zipper, but it caught in the front of my briefs. He had to drag the zipper back down before he managed to close it again. The taxi had stopped, its engine still running. The noisy rattle had changed position. Now it was somewhere underneath the seat. It had to be the differential.

When I looked up again, it was as if nothing had happened, although both boys were smirking and giggling among themselves. Pierce had his wallet out, flipping through a sheaf of notes before he found what he was looking for. A ten-dollar bill found its way into Ty's hand. He grinned, clutching the money.

"We're havin' breakfast at Mickey D's tomorrow," he grinned at me.

"That five bucks," the taxi driver informed us curtly.

He barely turned around as he fiddled with the two-way radio that was screeching so loudly that it was impossible to understand what was being said.

Pierce peeled off another ten-dollar bill and pushed it through the slot in the plastic divider. I had a terrible sinking feeling that I was not going to have the money to pay the driver for taking Ty and me back to the Sunset Motel. Perhaps Pierce had forgotten about his offer?

"Keep the change," Pierce said generously.

A five dollar tip on a five dollar fare for going all of two blocks was more than generous in my opinion. It was downright charitable. The driver picked the note up, examining it casually, feeling it as if touch alone could reveal a counterfeit. He glanced up, looking back in the rear vision mirror. Suddenly, he smirked. He had bad teeth, yellowed from tobacco, a big gap where a tooth was missing. He reminded me of some dirt track drivers I had known over the years.

"Ese fun wid him, no?" he growled. "'e boy, 'e suck good eh?"

Pierce returned a cold look. Without answering, his fingers selected another note, another ten-dollar bill from the sheaf. He folded it in half and without hesitating, slid it through the window slot. I tried to convince myself, not that I needed much convincing, that it was his fault, his and Brandon's. They had made a show of it, as much for my entertainment as their own. They had convinced Ty to do it. For him, it had been as much a game as part of a deal.

"Hey, Terry. I was thinking it would a good idea if you came up to the room with us?" Pierce said blandly as he opened the door on his side of the car.

"Why?"

"To spend the night."

"Huh? Why would we do that?"

He smiled. "Well, for one thing you're going to have a hell of a job getting your car tomorrow morning. This way I could drive you up here tomorrow morning to get it after breakfast."

It wasn't the sort of thing I wanted to discuss from inside the taxi while he stood in the traffic waiting to get hit by a passing car. It took forever to get out of the taxi. All I wanted to do was to lie down in my bed and have Ty beside me. No, make that on top of me, bathing my cock with his spit. Instead, I was ready to sit on the curb until I was sober enough to walk back to the parking lot. With luck it would only take a few hours before I was able to drive back to the motel.

"Yeah, that's true," I finally agreed. Still, I stuck my head back through the open door and told the driver to wait for a few moments.

The problem of getting back to the rent-a-wreck had been on my mind ever since getting into the taxi. Walking back to get the car, even two blocks or however far it had been, never stood a chance. It made more sense to take the taxi back to the car and wait there until I was sober enough to drive.

"And it's one of the executive suites so there's a load of room, Terry," Pierce went on. "Hell, we have two queensized beds and one of them hasn't been used yet," he added with a smirk. "All you'll need are two toothbrushes and we can get those from the front desk."

"Um, well… see, I don't know, Pierce," I muttered drunkenly.

My mind couldn't get past the fact that Ty had agreed to suck my dick when we got back to the room. It was all I could think about, repeating that wonderful feeling he had just given me, and if it was that wonderful fro a few seconds in the back seat of a taxi, with as much time as we wanted and in the privacy of our bedroom, it would be mind-bogglingly good. Yet, even with that delightful prospect ahead of me, I really didn't want to hitch hike back to the restaurant parking lot the next morning. I had to be out of my mind.

"I… um… well… Ty and I sort of have plans for later," I explained.

Pierce raised an eyebrow and then he winked at Ty. Brandon smirked knowingly.

"Sure. I understand. I have a few things I want to do with Brandon too." Both Pierce and Brandon grinned.

"Um… well, I don't know… It's… well… you know, kinda personal." It sounded like a weak excuse, but it was true.

"So? If you need some privacy then we turn the lights out. Brando and I usually do that anyway when things get a bit heated." He gave another laugh, louder than ever before. "Well what do you say?"

"Um, I don't know."

"It'll be fun," Brandon interjected.

"Ty, what do you think about spending the night with them?" It was all I could think off. What did I expect Ty to say? 'No, I want to go back to our room so I can suck your cock.'

"It'll be fun, Ty," Brandon repeated encouragingly. "You said…"

"If Terry wants to, it's okay with me," Ty replied awkwardly. He glanced at me, leaving the decision in my hands.

"The other thing was that I was thinking of sending an email to the company's lawyers to get them started as soon as possible. I'm sure I'll need some information from you and Ty," Pierce added.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" I asked tiredly.

"It could, but the sooner the better. I've always said timing is everything."

Brandon all but fell back into the taxi and rolled on the back seat of the car with laughter. The only problem was that the taxi door had been closed and the vehicle was already pulling into the traffic.

"God-damn!" I cursed. "I told the fucker to wait."

"No problem-a," Pierce said. "That settles it. You two are staying with us."

And so it was decided. I followed along behind Pierce, with Brandon and Ty leading the way. It seemed that my entire life had been spent bringing up the rear. Still, the view from the rear was enjoyable when there were two cute little bottoms a half-dozen yards away. It wasn't at all like watching the tail end of a car and breathing exhaust fumes.

The elevator was opposite the check-in counter, but the single night-clerk was so busy that we gave up on the idea of getting two toothbrushes. Instead, we made our way across the foyer and I waited next to the elevator with Ty and Brandon while Pierce went into a small shop. He emerged clutching a plastic bag. He stabbed his finger at the elevator button and the doors opened immediately.

"Did you get them?" Brandon asked. He sounded hopeful.

"Yes," Pierce answered enigmatically.

"Get what," Ty asked.

"Um… the toothbrushes," Brandon replied quickly. "You don't want to have morning breath all day do you?"

Ty smiled weakly and followed them into the elevator, dragging a very reluctant man behind him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stand up. It had been a long while since I had been that drunk. While most of my senses were dulled by the liquor, there remained a part of me that was on edge. The only problem was that I couldn't place my finger on what it was that was bothering me.

The boys chattered as we went up in the elevator. It was one of those glass-fronted elevators where you could look into the atrium or whatever it was called. I stood with my back to the buttons, as far away from the glass as I could get. It was like being on the edge of a precipice, a yawning chasm in front of me. Sometimes, I had to close my eyes. This time I was so drunk that I was able to keep my eyes open. What I saw all but took my breath away. It wasn't often that I stayed at a fancy hotel. There were a number of reasons, not the least being the cost. A basic room for a single night at a place like the xxxx probably cost more than all of the rooms the team needed if we stayed at one of the motels on the outskirts of town. Sure, it cost a little extra because breakfast was almost never included, but one of us could drive to a Dunkin Donuts and get coffee and two dozen donuts and we were still ahead. The team needed to be careful with money because taking care of the car was always priority one, and Bobbie took great pleasure in telling everyone that I was 'the original tight-ass', but he always ate more than his share of the donuts.

But what a view! With a firm grip on the polished gold handrail, I gazed out, taking it all in just like the little blond-headed boy who had his nose pressed up against the glass. It was far more of a shock to him than it was to me. It was like being in a jungle. Beneath the huge glazed roof there were trees and plants everywhere, pockmarked with splashes of colorful flowers. Here and there were lashed-together bamboo structures that tried to look like Tarzan's tree house. There was even a waterfall that cascaded down what appeared to be artificial rocks into a crystal clear pool. Surprisingly, the indoor swimming pool was all but empty. I counted three people in the water, two of them in the hot tub at the far end of the pool. By contrast, the bar, a tropical boozing paradise, was crowded. The customers were mostly with businessmen who were more than likely taking advantage of company expense accounts.

The elevator door slid open behind me and the boys turned away from the view and rushed out. Pierce laughed.

"Don't you wonder where they get the energy? What would I give to be a boy again?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that," I muttered.

I couldn't see the point of being a boy again. Growing up with a father who was almost never around, and when he was, wishing that he was gone. He drove trucks for a living, working for my grandfather. Not smart enough to take over the business, but frustrated enough that he took his resentment out on me. It was no secret that Grandpa Joe liked me.

I swayed, and shook my head to try to clear away the persistent fog. I ambled after them. By the time I reached the open door they were inside the room. I closed the door behind me, automatically placing the security chain in place. It was a habit no matter where I stayed, but then I usually stayed in places where you wondered whether your car would still be there in the morning.

The Executive Suite was vast. Its size was my first impression. It was bigger than anywhere that I had stayed. It was also very lavish. The paintings on the walls might well have been original. The gold frames were elaborate, the same as the ones you see at the Biltmore place in Asheville. The first room I came to was a compilation of living room, dining room, kitchenette; all with original wood furniture that was probably European in origin. It had the kind of elegant sophisticated appearance than you saw in magazines in company offices when I went to talk with potential sponsors, although why anyone would pay $10 for a magazine that was mostly advertisements was beyond me. I heard voices from the next room and I continued on into the bedroom. Pierce had not been joking about the two queen-sized beds, although, it was impossible to tell which one had been slept in. The covers looked like they came right out of the bedrooms at the Biltmore as well.

"Cool huh, Terry?" Ty said. He was sitting on the edge of one bed, swinging his legs to and fro.

"Yeah, very cool, Ace."

"Make yourself comfortable, Terry."

"Look, Pierce… I'm not so sure this is a good idea," I said humbly.

I glanced around the room, taking in the expensive luggage. A person had to be rich to afford suitcases like those. Unless I was mistaken they were the same color as the leather upholstery in his Porsche.

"It's going to be hard to get back to the car tomorrow," Ty said bluntly.

"So?"

"So we ought to stay!"

"Ty… goddamn… I mean… They don't need us hanging around."

"It'll be fun," Brandon chipped in.

"All Brando and I would do by ourselves is get into bed and watch one of those pay movies."

Brandon giggled. "Yeah, one of the X-rated ones. There's one listed just for guys."

Ty's eyes opened wide. "For real?"

"Sure. Why not?"

I wasn't convinced Brandon was not kidding him.

"You don't mind Ty getting a little horny, do you Terry?" Pierce laughed.

"Um…"

"Don't be such a dud, Terry," Ty smirked. "It ain't like I don't know how guys do it."

"Why don't you and Ty go brush your teeth," Pierce suggested.

Brandon jumped up and pushed Ty ahead of him, past me, and into the bathroom.

"If you're embarrassed, there's no reason to be," Pierce remarked absently. "After seeing us on the beach today, both of them know what we have. Ty seems to be open to it and as far as Brandon's concerned, hell one dick is the same as any other dick."

"It's not that," I grumbled. "It's just… Christ… I don't know. It's just that I wanted to have some fun with Ty tonight, that's all."

"So what?" Pierce winked. "I figured we'll watch the movie for a while until the boys get horny. Then you can have your fun with Ty and I'll have my fun with Brandon. If it bothers you, we'll turn the lights off."

I heard laughter from the bathroom and I turned around as the boys came out.

"Hey Pierce, you want to see something really cool?" Brandon said suggestively. "Show him, Ty."

Grinning, Ty opened his arms, his colorful Hawaiian print shirt parting down the from where the buttons were open. The eagle tattoo looked ever larger than when I had applied it.

"Oh man! Wow! Jesus, that may be the sexiest thing I've seen in a long while," Pierce said in awe.

It was impressive, even to me and I had put it there. Both of us stared, gazed at that slender brown abdomen, the elaborate eagle decorating his chest, feathered wing-tips almost touching his tiny dark nipples.

Pierce stared for nearly a minute before he spoke. "You put it on him before you went to dinner, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Hot damn. It's so sexy." He took a deep breath. "I'm thinking… this might be it, Terry."

"It looks like his claws are going for his belly button," Brandon pointed out.

"Man! That's some tattoo." Pierce seemed lost for words. It took a few seconds before he spoke. "You know, when we were working up the All-American Boy program, I wanted to do something different." He breathed out. "Something that was bold… definitely not the usual run of the mill stuff-. This is bold. This is the All-American boy I think I had in mind all along! Talk about patriotic-. That idea, Ty's idea… about putting transfer tattoos in the cereal boxes… that's it! I can see it all. We put an eagle on him, just like this one, with his race-suit open far enough in front to show it. And we'll have little eagles in the boxes. Yes! Why didn't we think of it earlier. It's exactly right and Ty's the right boy to do it too."

"Huh?" I muttered. Other than the raw sexuality of a boy with a tattoo I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. "I don't get it."

"Jesus. Eagle? All American Boy? Do I have to spell it out for you, Terry? It's perfect!" he exclaimed.

"Okay, I get the eagle thing, but so what? You aren't thinking of… you are!" I began to laugh, imagining Ty's picture on a cereal box. The Team 69 suit open to his waist to reveal his chest and the tattoo. To my mind, it would be sexy in the extreme.

Ty grinned from ear to ear.

"It's hot, Terry. Goddamn, hot. No one's done anything like it that I'm aware of, and certainly not in cereal. It makes exactly the kind of statement that we wanted Crunchy Go to make from the outset. It was supposed to be extreme, the kind of thing that kids in our target market will go for. Speaking of Crunchy Go… Hey, Brando, get him some from the suitcase." Pierce turned to me. "I have some samples I've been carrying around for him to snack on. I can just about guarantee he'll like it."

Brandon tossed Ty a generic plastic bag. I could see the little squashed balls inside. The color wasn't bad, far better than I expected given how Pierce had described it. Having watched a preteen boy in action over the last few days, I was confident that the cereal was going to be a phenomenal success. Ty picked out a few pieces and began to eat. Pierce watched him expectantly. His first impression was right on the money.

"Hey, this is good," Ty said as he chewed.

Pierce smiled and nodded encouragingly. "Terry, I'll understand if you say no, but I was thinking it would be a good idea to get a few photos of Ty. It'll make Charley even keener, especially when I tell him what we're paying you."

"Huh? You mean eating?"

"Sure, it's perfect. I want him just the way he is. Showing off the tattoo, chewing with his mouth open… the perfect All-American boy. I'm beginning to like the idea of him being a bit rough around the edges. Our target market will identify with him 100 percent, although their parents might not." He laughed and stopped abruptly. "Yes, I really think we have a whole new approach to marketing, Terry. No one's got anything like it. A 100 percent pure boy getting his 100 percent daily vitamins from Crunchy Go!"

He went over to where his briefcase was lying on top of the television. He opened it and took out a camera that was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. It even had a little television screen that lifted up, just like the video cameras I often saw people using around the track.

"Ya know, ya oughta call it Crunch and Go," Ty said between mouthfuls.

Pierce and Brandon looked at each other and started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Ty demanded.

"Because I've been telling Pierce that for months now," Brandon finally managed to say.

"Why is Crunch and Go a better name, Ty?" Pierce asked.

Ty shrugged nonchalantly, but I could tell that he was thinking before he answered. He chose his words carefully, realizing that it was important. "Because it is, Mr. Heekin. I guess Crunchy Go sounds like some little kids' cereal. This stuff is good. You just crunch and then you go."

"I told you," Brandon said.

"What did you say earlier about him being a diamond in the rough?" Pierce said to me as he lifted the camera to his eye. "Man, this is fantastic. I can't believe it looks so right. Hey Ty, as you eat, try licking your lips a bit… not too much. Let's see some teeth. Just right. Move the shirt a bit to the sides so I can see more the tattoo. Keep it on your shoulders. I know I told you he had a nice body, Terry, but this is fabulous. I love his tan," Pierce remarked as the flash on the camera went off again and again.

I watched, vaguely disturbed as Pierce moved in closer, rearranged Ty's arms, directed his head to the side, touched his body, stepping back, still snapping off photographs. I would have to get used to seeing Ty being photographed.

"That's some beautiful boy-belly he's got there, Terry," Pierce observed of his willing model. "If there's more than an ounce of fat on him I'd be surprised."

I loved Ty's body, especially the way his skin formed a dozen thin ripples at his waist when he sat down. There was no puppy fat. I knew why and the knowledge depressed me. His grandmother's mistreatment had kept him thin even when the bad food he was eating should have been fattening him. Somehow, by some miracle, he had managed to survive and come out on top. Pierce reached out and relocated Ty's rat's tail where it could be seen. He took a deep breath. Again and again the camera flashed. It have to have a vast amount of storage space inside it.

"Man, I'm getting one hell of a hard-on doing this," Pierce admitted breathlessly. "I always wondered if you could make cereal sexy. Now I know we can. People are going to be jacking off with our cereal boxes once Ty's picture is on it."

Ty smirked at me. I was not at all sure I liked the idea of people doing that. He was my Ty, not some cheap hooker who posed for pornography. Yet, despite my reservations, I accepted the inevitability of it. He was an incredibly sexy boy. He exuded sex just sitting there on the bed eating Crunchy Go.

"You think this tattoo is sexy," Ty giggled. "Just wait Mr. Heekin."

He stood up, ignoring my sudden head shake. His hands moved to his waist and unfastened the knotted cord that held his board shorts up. Fortunately, he didn't push his shorts all the way down. Just far enough. The tattoo between his navel and groin slowly came into view as his hips wriggled seductively.

"Oh God," Pierce sighed. "Another one. Hell, it even says 'SEXY'. Oh that is so right!"

He turned to me. "How did you ever convince him to put those on?"

I gave a shrug. "It wasn't all that difficult, Pierce. He picked them out and I decided where to put them."

Ty laughed so hard that bits of Crunchy Go went flying across the room. "Go on, Terry, tell him what the deal was."

I shook my head. It was too embarrassing.

"So, can I assume there are others?" Pierce asked boldly. He rearranged the bulge in his trousers.

Ty smiled mischievously. "If there are, you ain't seein' 'em, Mr. Heekin."

Pierce erupted into laughter. "Then, I'll just have to keep dreaming I suppose," he said after a few moments to calm down

If his laughter was deafening, the noise that Ty and I made would have drowned him out.

"I can't believe it," I finally managed to say. Ty shook his head in disbelief.

"What's so funny?" Pierce asked. "Was it something I said?"

"Shall we show him?" I asked Ty.

Ty grinned and nodded. "Sure. I've never mooned no one before but I always wanted to."

He stood up and turned around so that his back was facing towards Pierce. I couldn't stop myself from laughing as his hands took hold of his shorts. He gave them a good yank, dragging them about halfway down his thighs. I was standing to the side so I didn't get the full effect, but what I did get was enough to make my heart jump up and down like a piston at the red-line.

"Oh my god! OH, MY GOD! That's incredible! I just said keep dreaming, didn't I? And there it is! Keep dreaming!" Pierce glanced at me. "That's got to be the cutest ass I've ever seen, next to Brandon's of course. Okay Terry, I know you're going to say no, but can I please, please get a photo of him like this. You won't be able to see his face so no one will never know it's him. And I promise I keep it where no one else will ever find it."

"I guess you better ask Ty that," I replied seriously. "But if he says yes, you're going to have to give me a print."

"Ty?" Pierce begged. "Just one picture of your butt."

Ty giggled. I really didn't expect him to say yes. Actually, he didn't say anything. What he did do was to put his hands on his buttocks and split his cheeks apart so that the tattoo could be seen in its entirely. Pierce also got a close-up of his tiny puckered anus. It was a once in a lifetime picture. I all but choked as Pierce closed in. My heart hammered an instant before the flashlight illuminated Ty's rear.

"No!"

Pierce stopped and stepped back. He shrugged nonchalantly.

"No problem. I can't believe this is happening," Pierce admitted. "We only met you guys today… and I'm almost taking photos of your boy's ass."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Brandon interjected. "He takes photos of me all the time in the buff," he explained to Ty and me. "You'd think he'd get bored he's got so many."

"There's no such thing as too many photos of a sexy boy, especially when he's a good looking as you two boys are," Pierce retorted.

After that, the inspiration to take more photos of the all-American boy faded away. Pierce was not about to ask if he could take more photos of Ty in intimate poses, and I wasn't about to agree even if he did ask. There were some things I just didn't feel comfortable with.

Brandon picked up the remote controller for the television and by some peculiar skill available only to young boys managed to get to the X-rated movies area within a few seconds. It usually took me a phone call to the front desk before I understood how to change channels and arrange payment. Apparently, Brandon had already decided on what we were going to watch because he skipped past the brief introductions and went right to the movie. It was titled Boys of Summer, but according to the warnings on the screen, the youngest boy was eighteen years old. Ty rearranged the pillows on the bed he was sitting on and lay down. He chewed down a few more Crunchy Go pellets. He patted the cover next to him to indicate where I was supposed to be.

I felt awkward, but I joined him. Brandon and Pierce didn't seem to care that we were in their room, but I didn't feel comfortable. I stared at the television, waiting for the preliminaries to finish. There wasn't much a plot, assuming that you can say that a movie about four pseudo-boys spending a week together somewhere in Baja California has a plot. The flesh made up for it. The four American were hunks, the kind of man who'd keep Bobbie awake at night, but who did nothing for me. On the other hand, Ty was visibly fascinated, even sexually excited by what he saw, judging by the little bulge in his shorts It was the same for Brandon. He lay with his legs apart, displaying his arousal to anyone who cared to look in his direction.

I didn't know much about gays, even though Bobbie had been my chief mechanic for years. However, seeing Brandon like that made me think that he had to be a gay in the making. He reminded me a lot of Bobbie, not physically, because they were as opposite as they could get, but in other ways that I could quite put my finger on. I decided Ty was different, but I couldn't put my finger on what the difference was.

The movie started to get into what I would have been tempted to call hard porn because of my Methodist upbringing. Clothes were coming off every few seconds as Pierce switched off the lamps over the bed.

"Nothing like a little mood lighting," he said quietly to me. "Especially if you want to get a boy in the mood," he added.

The room was lit only by the television and reflected light coming from the bathroom. It wasn't so dark that I couldn't see around the room. I inhaled the smell of shampoo, barely able to resist kissing the top of Ty's head. His hair felt like fine strands of silk brushing against my nose. He wriggled closer to me, pressing against my flank. From what I could see, Brandon was doing the same thing with Pierce. I barely heard what was being said. I was certain I heard them say 'I love you'. The sound track from the video became white noise. My heart was pounding. I could feel Ty's warmth, the softness of his bare arms, the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling.

"Pretty hot, huh?" Ty whispered.

"You or the movie?"

"Duh!" He twisted his head and smirked at me. His voice was trembling with nervous excitement. "Me and Paul watched a movie like this once. It was one of his dad's, so it had girls in it."

Perhaps it was only my imagination, but he sounded disgusted. My opinion of what turned Ty Kincaid on was tentative at best up to that point, but it was confirmed by what he said next. I had to wait for several minutes, almost bored by the video of three naked men, and a fourth who was wearing plaid boxers. The fourth man was a bald-head bear, hirsute and moustached. They were gathered around a blazing fire on the beach, all sporting gigantic erections amid bushy crotches and low-hanging balls. I amused myself by thinking of Ty's compact, still immature package. Other than the hair on his head, there wasn't a hair on him. He was the All-American boy, 100 percent proof, and he was lying right beside me, almost on top of me.

So Terry, which one do you like the most?" he asked teasingly.

"The one next to me." It was the honest-to-God truth.

"Ha. I mean them," Ty said, pointing.

"They're all too old," I grumbled. I leaned over him. "I like 'em smooth 'n small, Ace. Anythin' bigger'n three inches [7½ cm] and I get turned off real fast."

He grinned and wriggled back against me. He could feel it pressing against his thigh, of course, that thick hard stake that snaked down the leg of my jeans.

"I like him," Ty said in a voice that was intended only for me to hear. For once, he had not countered with four inches [10 cm]. I assumed he was too sleepy.

"So does Brando," Pierce said in a soothing voice.

I lifted my head and looked across Ty's body. Pierce had his hand underneath Brandon's shirt. I caught a glimpse of Brandon's bare belly. From the angle of his arm and the barely noticeable movement, Pierce had to be playing with his nipples. Brandon was relaxed, staring at the screen, his knees spread apart invitingly. And that boy-bulge certainly looked inviting. It was a lot bigger than anything on Ty's body. I had seen Brandon naked at the beach, but not sexually aroused. He had a penis that was long and thin, almost mirroring the rest of his body. The way he was lying, with his arms stretched back behind his head, and his skinny body, the bulge in his fancy designer pants was greatly enhanced.

"He's okay," Brandon muttered dreamily.

"Just okay?" Pierce taunted. His finger flicked back and forth under the shirt.

"Okay, he's hot," Brandon giggled. "But I still like you more."

I was surprised when Ty's hand closed over my hand that had been lying still although resting on the bare ridge of his hip. He held it in his hot moist palm. We watched the video together. I could understand why the boys were enjoying it, I simply didn't enjoy it myself. The actors were in their late teens or early twenties, handsome specimens of manhood with bodies to die for. From the magazines that Bobbie lift in the truck cab, I easily recognized them for what they were. Jack-off material. They had the stereotypical gay-muscle-builder appearance with hair in all the right places. It didn't do much for me. They would probably have given Bobbie a stroke.

"He's got the biggest one," Ty said softly.

The hairy man had finally lost his boxers, pulled off by two of the others, while the fourth man was sticking his tongue down his throat. The sight of two men doing that, kissing each other, was enough to make me heave. It didn't strike me at all as being hypocritical that it was what I wanted to do to Ty. I wasn't interested on iota in the massive stake of hard flesh that had finally made its appearance. Men did nothing for me, however the thought of that huge cock sliding into a boy's body was enough to make me shiver. Was it even possible for a man to do that to a boy and not cause permanent injury?

"They must have saved the best for last," I said cynically.

Ty giggled. His fingers tugged at my fingers, drawing my hand across his side and downward. He was bare there, almost to his groin, because that was where his shorts had stayed after he'd mooned Pierce. It seemed as if he was intent on pulling my hand onto his groin. I felt the warmth of his lower belly, passed over skin that was so soft that my fingers were almost with any sense of touching him. He stopped there content to feel my gentle caress. My thumb stroking up and down beside his navel. The tips of my fingers slowly circled over and around getting very close to his hairless pubis, not daring to go that extra inch that would take them under the waist of his shorts.

"Look at them now," Ty said in a hushed, anxious voice.

Again, I craned my neck. Pierce was intent on pleasuring Brandon. The hand that had been under his shirt was now cupped over the boy's bulge, almost hiding it from view. I breathed out, disbelieving, fascinated, insanely jealous but for Ty. I watched Pierce's hand massage, fingers relentlessly squeezing the mound that was formed by Brandon's boyhood. Suddenly, Pierce looked up and met my eyes. He smirked, winked, gave the lump a deliberate squeeze for me. Brandon let out a muffled groan. His pelvis lifted up, higher, harder into Pierce's hand. His body trembled, giving way to urgent thrusting before Pierce pushed him down, his hand clutching, grasping the boy's excited sex organs.

A few seconds passed before Brandon responded. He swiveled around. His hands, both of them reached down. I couldn't see where he was touching. I didn't have to.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you Brando. I think maybe it's time to get under the covers," Pierce admitted, still watching over Brandon's shoulder to see my reaction.

I smiled slightly. There was nothing else I could do. Seeing that shameless exhibition had sent a surge through me that was equal to any thrill I had ever known. Equally exciting was the knowledge that the night had only begun. I had no doubts and more than a few qualms that we would witness a lot more before the sun rose. Worse still was the video we were watching, because as increasingly came the realization that I was exposing a ten-year-old boy to an adult world. By then, Ty's hand tightened on mine and guided it under his shorts and onto the warm mound of his groin, giving me the green flag.

Chapter 14

Ty was warm and soft, and whenever he touched me I could think only of a single word to express the feeling that surged throughout me: delight. So delightful that I kept thinking I had never been touched by a human hand before, but it was probably because my mind was addled from drinking so much wine. Yes, I was drunk. Yet, as wonderful as the feelings were, Ty soon calmed down from his initial foray into lust. The green light changed to the caution flag. I didn't complain when he gently but resolutely pushed my hand away from where it was, creeping along his inner thigh headed to his three-inch [7½ cm] weenie. I decided, or rather convinced myself, that it didn't mean stop, just take it slow.

"No problem, Ace," I whispered in his ear. "There's no rush."

He looked at me as if he wasn't sure what I'd said. Perhaps it was relief instead. However, he moved away a few inches, separating us so that he wasn't lying half-over me. Not too far, but far enough that our bodies weren't touching the way they'd been a moment earlier. I waited until he settled down.

"Ya getting' comfortable there, boy?" I muttered, resorting once again to the idiom of my North Carolina heritage. It was a lot easier to talk that way than worry about my p's and q's.

"Yeah, how about you?"

"I'm doin' fine."

The separation didn't last long the first time. A few seconds later, he smiled and his hand cautiously extended out again. It was reassuring that he needed me as much as I needed him. The back of his hand pushed deliberately against my crotch. Just once. It wasn't much, but it said that he really wasn't mad at me, even if I was drunk. He was just taking things at his own pace. However, after that, it became erratic, a sort of spontaneous need to make sure that I was there beside him. Again and again, his hands brushed over me, never touching my crotch again, but still finding some part of me to stroke. I returned his caresses, following his lead, hoping that his hand would find its way back again. It seemed that once contact had been made, he drifted away again. Maybe it was the R-rated video we were watching. Perhaps he was trying to act out what he was seeing and feeling as the plot thickened to the consistency of water.

"Ya like this stuff?" I asked.

"It's okay. The young dude is kinda cute."

"Him?" I asked when the young dude's face appeared with something other than a cock between his lips.

"Uh huh." Ty smirked. "I reckon he could probably fit your whopper in there if he opened wide," he jeered.

"Like you?" I teased back. "Reckon you could take more than an inch or two [5 cm]?"

He smirked. "What's it worth to ya?"

"How about a plane ticket back to Tallahassee, Ace?"

He giggled and meaningfully licked his lips as if preparing to earn his keep. He was joking of course, and even if he wasn't, I certainly was. There was no way that he'd ever be more than a few feet away from me if I had anything to do with it.

"Man, look at him suck that mother fucker," Ty said in admiration.

Personally, I couldn't see the point of watching grown men have sex, certainly not sex without any emotion attached to it. The last thing I wanted was for another man to touch me. Wham, bam, slam! From cocksucking the action soon progressed to other things, things that made me uncomfortable even if the actual details of what the men were doing were lost in the darkness of the night setting. Ty seemed to be oblivious to what was happening, in so far as he didn't say a word. At times, he appeared so detached that I wondered whether he was actually watching. What they said and the sounds they made were enough to fill in any gaps. Still, despite his avowed distaste for anal sex, Ty was watching. Indeed, when the angle of the camera shifted and zoomed in closer, it seemed to me that he took a lot more notice, which had to account for something I thought. However, as far as I was concerned, the video was simply background noise, ever present, but otherwise it was not a distraction.

As the minutes passed, I couldn't help wondering whether those clumsy fleeting touches were all a game for Ty, a game whose rules only he knew. Maybe it was more than that, but I wasn't about to ask him. I was prepared to play the game his way. It was the only way, in fact, given the nearly thirty-years difference in our ages. I figured that he'd eventually either stop or progress to something else. It was a bit like driving a 500 mile race. You had to be able to go the distance before you worried about who was in front.

"Ya reckon he likes it 'cause he's sure smilin' 'bout somethin'?" Ty asked quietly.

"I guess," I ventured.

"It's gotta hurt somethin' awful." He sounded adamant.

"Hm, maybe…Yer talkin' to tha wrong guy, Ace. Next time ya see Bobbie ya oughta ask him what it's like. Or better yet, ask Trevor what it's like when Bobbie does it in his ass."

Ty barely managed to keep from laughing out aloud. "No fuckin' way! 'specially Bobbie! He'll probably try to give me a demo."

In the adjacent bed, Pierce and Brandon were doing the things that I wanted to do with Ty. At first, all I had were suspicions mixed with hope that I wasn't mistaken. It began with muffled whispers coming from the other side of the room, promptly followed by the sound of clothes being removed. Okay, they were getting naked, but there was an alternative explanation to them having sex. They were getting ready for bed and they didn't want to undress in front of us? That made sense, but only if I was dumb enough to overlook reality. Pierce took great pleasure in tossing each article of Brandon's clothing away. A couple of times, things sailed overhead until they hit the wall. I think one of Brandon's socks actually landed on our bed. That got our attention.

"Jesus!" Ty whispered. "He's got Brandon in the nud now." Not nude, but 'nud', spoken just the way it's spelled.

"No shit!"

"Man, Brandon said somethin' about them maybe messin' around, but I didn't figure they'd be doin' this."

"Well, it ain't like they're doin' it in front of us," I muttered dryly. "Maybe they're getting' ready fer bed. A lot of guys sleep naked ya know."

"Like us?" Ty suggested merrily.

"If ya want, it's okay by me. I figure it's up to you, Ace," I answered boldly.

Across the room, someone sniggered. I thought it sounded like Pierce. I hadn't intended to speak so loudly.

What followed was almost as if Ty was making up for what we could not see. He wriggled closer, close enough that we might well have been joined together. Throughout the minutes that followed, as the two of them wrestled, whispered and giggled, Ty stayed pressed up hard against me. Knowing that Pierce and Brandon were naked, had the same effect on Ty as it did on me. I felt his penis begin to grow, become hotter, harder, and noticeably bigger. Finally, his three-inch [7½ cm] boner began the process of digging an urgent groove in my thigh despite our clothing. At the same time, his infrequent touches stopped. His hand remained still for a while. Long lonely minutes passed before his fingers cautiously walked up and down my body, engaging in an exploration that was entirely random in its wanderings. It seemed that he wanted to touch me in a different way, but he was not quite sure of how to go about it. Like me, he was interested, undeniably interested in what was going on in the next bed. It seemed too bizarre to be actually happening, yet I wanted it to be happening. Indeed, in a moment of selfish introspection, I realized that I was fit to be tied. I was more jealous of Pierce than ever. I would have liked if we were playing the same games. Neither would I have minded in the slightest if Ty was as naked at Brandon had to be beneath the bed covers.

"Man, they sure are havin' fun," Ty whispered. He sounded anxious, but he was also excited.

"Ya reckon Pierce is naked too?"

"Maybe…it's kinda hard to tell from here. Ya want me to turn the lights on so's ya can see, Terry?" Ty sniggered.

"No fuckin' way."

"I think they're kissin'."

"Uh huh."

I swallowed, sending a mental message that it wasn't such a bad idea. I wasn't close minded to the possibility that guys could kiss if they wanted to. There was no reason why we shouldn't follow suit. Ty's breath was hot against my neck. So close, yet so very far away from the intimacy I so badly wanted. He breathed deeply, his breath hot and moist. I wanted to touch him, to feel his lean hard body with my hands, to stroke his smooth limbs, his flat belly, his sensitive nipples. I wanted to do something, anything. However, wanting to do something wasn't enough to overcome my reluctance to take the initiative. I don't think he would have complained.

"What ya waitin' fer?" he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Ya ain't that drunk."

And that was how it got started. Ty moved up the pace a notch. Somehow, throughout all of the preliminaries, we stayed dressed. The worst thing that happened was reaching under each other's shirts to touch bare skin and even then it wasn't for very long before our hands pulled back. Sometimes he barely caressed me, at other times his fingers lingered. Either way, his initial exploration of my cock seemed to have been replaced by inhibition. Not that he had rejected me, because he had not. Again and again his hands flowed under my shirt and brushed through my chest hair, fingered my nipples until they were hard lumps, even crept down my belly and underneath my belt. His fingertips came within inches of my newly bald crotch, but never any closer than that. Perhaps he was waiting for me to do something in return.

"They're jackin', don't ya reckon?" I wondered aloud.

"Sure sounds like it. I figure Pierce's doin' it 'a bit 'cause Brandon's bin so quiet."

If I lifted my head and looked over my shoulder, I could barely make out the movement beneath the covers. It was regular and rhythmic, precisely the sort of motion that masturbating would make. If I could have done anything at that moment, it would have been to do that with Ty, to show him that pleasure could be obtained with nothing more than four fingers and thumb, although in his case it was more likely to be one finger and a thumb. Yet, as we watched and listened to the muffled sounds across the room, he eased away again and contented himself by touching my hand. Compared to Pierce and Brandon we were innocents.

The more I thought about it, the more I began to think that it was entirely possible that I was the cause of Ty's reluctance to do more than merely than hold hands and fondle places that were safe territory. I was certainly nervous enough for both of us, but for good reason. With witnesses and a stupefied head, sexual arousal for me was about as far away as the race track at Homestead, Florida. So, instead of taking over and seducing him, which probably wouldn't have been very difficult given how he had been carrying on, I lay back and relaxed. Strange as it might seem, I even waited for sleep to creep up on both of us. It had been a long day and it was late, but sleep was as impossible as completing the Pepsi 400 on a single tank of gas that night.

Imagine a worm that can't stop wriggling around and you have a good idea of what it was like to share the bed with Ty Kincaid. Ten-year-old boys are probably the same at sleep overs with their friends. Ty was simply too excited to settle down and sleep, especially when he was in bed with someone who only a few short hours ago he had admitted being in love with.

It only got worse when we realized that the couple in the next bed were having sex. SEX! I finally realized that Brandon and Pierce were beyond making out and had moved on to having sex when Ty finally tugged at my zipper, slowly working it down a fraction of an inch at a time. I held my breath and waited, expecting that even the slightest indication of a reaction on my part would distract him.

Then, the zipper was open and his fingers pushed between the serrated metal edges. My heart was racing, pounding with excitement, ready to burst a ventricle or an artery or whatever it was that made my penis throb mercilessly.

"Jesus," I breathed out loudly.

I had as much chance of controlling myself as winning at Daytona.

"He wanna get out and play, don't he?" Ty asked urgently.

"Of course."

"Then, shut-the-fuck up, yer dum-ass." His fingers poked into the opening. His fingernails scratched in the cotton, scraping lightly against my erection.

"Geez, Ty, I reckon yer speech is goin' backwards."

"Like yer any better?" he whispered back. "Ya wanna have some fun or what, Terry?"

"Yer horny ain't ya, dude?"

"Ya wanna play with yer own?"

"No way."

"Then hush it. Don't want 'em hearin', do ya?"

"Okay." It was somewhere between a whisper and a sigh.

The expression on his face was serene, contemplative as he touched the front of my briefs. He felt around it cautiously. The bulge was huge and hot and it was waiting to be freed. He absently stroked the cloth with a finger for a minute, still scratching with his fingernail. It was almost a dream, my fantasy coming true while the television and its cheap porn show droned on. The men exchanged positions, grunting like pigs in mud until they resumed the action. It was depressing in a way. Somewhere along the way, I realized that the sounds had changed in the bed beside us. Brandon and Pierce were moving around in the bed, whispering, making muffled sounds, getting something that they needed from the drawers beside the bed. I listened, trying to decide what the sounds meant. I wasn't about to ask what was going on. And so I lay there, waiting, listening, imagining what I could not see.

I was happy, or at least I told myself I had a lot to be happy about. Sure, I would have liked to be on the top of the nascar heap, a Sunday afternoon champion like Gordon Jeffries and his buddies, but now I had a sponsor that could change. However, that wasn't why I felt overjoyed. Everything else paled beside the fact that I finally had what I wanted all along. I had Ty lying in the bed beside me and that all that mattered. Yet, desire or lust, or whatever it was that drove men to want sex with boys, was building up inside me. It was like a volcano, getting ready to explode at the slightest opportunity. I tried to close my eyes and blot out the thoughts that would not go away. I even tried to pretend I was doing something else. The final straw came when Ty stopped scratching and cautiously extended his fingers again, moved up the few inches that it took to take hold of the elastic waistband of my briefs. He hesitated for a moment or two, just long enough to stop having second thoughts, then with some effort on his part, he levered it away. I felt the opening, the sudden freedom of my groin, the release of my erection from captivity.

"Yeah," I sighed, or was it more of a groan?

I felt his excitement. The quivering tremble that came from being so thrilled by what he was doing that his body responded instinctively. Again, his hand hesitated. I nodded slightly, giving permission, wanting to be bare before him. He giggled softly, and then his hand tugged gently. Another tug, then down. Somehow, he held it there, while his fingers extricated my erection from the confines of my briefs. He took my penis in his small hot hand. He didn't rub or stroke it. All he did was hold it. I groaned this time, releasing the stress from deep inside. For the first time, I sensed his ownership of that part of me, just as I wanted to possess his body. He was staking his claim to me, and like his teddy bear, he had to hold it in order to prove that it belonged to him. He did it to show that he was mine and that I was his. That I was his man, just as he was my boy? I liked that idea. I let out another long sigh. Holding my own cock never felt like this.

"He's so damn big," Ty whispered in my ear. It was promptly followed by another of his muffled giggles. "What have you been feeding him?"

"Not that dumb-ass kid cereal of Pierce's, that's for sure," I whispered back.

He snorted as he tried to stop from laughing. "Crunch and shit! It'll probably make yer weenie smaller."

"Probably," I agreed. I didn't think that Pierce would ever use that slogan in his marketing campaign. I flexed my penis so that it jerked inside his hand. Ty responded with a friendly tug that changed to a casual up and down motion. I longed for him to continue. What would I have given for him to finish what he started?.

"Man, look at 'em now."

I allowed my attention to be distracted for a moment or two. The action on the television was frankly boring, but I could hardly say that, not when Ty seemed interested in what was happening. The men were stacked up like new trucks being transported cross-country. I wondered without much interest, what it was like to be the man in the middle. He was getting it in the ass at the same time as he pumped away at the man in front of him.

Ty's fist closed to hold my penis prisoner. Yet, as wonderful as that intimate clasping was, I wanted more. The problem was that Ty now seemed reluctant to do anything more than hold it. The reason was very simple. It wasn't only Ty who was affected by what was going about four or five feet away. We both listened, waiting for the next round of sounds, each thinking private thoughts about private acts. There was no getting past what was happening in the other bed, or that Ty held my hardness in his hand.

There, in the fourth-floor executive suite, room 435, a man who was about my age and a boy who was two years older than Ty, were having sex. No longer making out like they had been since the video started, but doing it, going all the way, sucking first, then fucking.

It was almost impossible to believe, but as I lay on my back with Ty close by, I knew what they were doing. Indeed, part of me wanted to believe that it was for our benefit as much as any pleasure they could derive from making love with a couple of people looking on. There was no mistaking the sounds even though I had never heard them before. That soft mewing sound that came from Brandon, both pained and pleasured at the same time, the heaving movement that labored the breathing of an older person, the slap of flesh when they came together harder than they expected. I told myself it must have hurt, but there was no complaint from either one. Those sounds alone would have been enough to keep me awake all night. However, it was more than sound alone. The erratic jerking movement of the two bodies that disturbed the night left no doubt as to what was going on.

They were hard at it. With that going on, the only logical thing for us to do seemed to be to do nothing. Just listen. I could not see much of anything without making an effort to sit up. Even then, the lights were out and they were beneath the covers, but what I heard left nothing to the imagination. And it wasn't only me who was consumed by curiosity. I could feel Ty's tension, his rapt attention finally bringing to end his exploratory touches. He held my erect penis tightly, not moving.

"They're doin' it, Terry," Ty finally whispered from where he lay next to me.

There was a strange urgency in his voice, yet he was inquisitive at the same time. I could tell that he was both curious and excited as much from the tremor in his voice as the fact that he had lifted up on his elbow to peer over my chest. Not that it helped to be much higher. If he had placed his hand in front of his face it would have been hard to see it in the dim bluish light that came from the television.

"No shit!"

"I hope not," Ty muttered under his breath.

"Huh? Hope what?" I had no idea what he was whispering about.

"No shit." From his constrained giggle, he seemed to think that was amusing.

"I don't get it."

"Geez! They're fuckin', Terry. So no shit? Get it? Ya don't wan no shit on yer dick." He laughed, but it was a feeble laugh. The amusement was gone. It came too close to reality.

"Oh! Yeah, I s'pose so."

"Duh!"

It was strange that I had never considered the possibility of that happening when I finally did get the chance to have sex with Ty. And I would get my chance, because I was planning on winning a race in the very near future. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was logical for there to be a mess afterwards, that it was probably going to be as messy as hell, doing that to another guy, man or boy. It stood to reason. I simply had never thought about it before. That wasn't quite true. I had always been troubled by what Bobbie did with other men. Somehow, I had convinced myself that it would be different with a boy. It would be love, not sex, and beautiful because of it. I grimaced in the dark. Would it be like that with Ty? Somehow I had always imagined making love to him would be sweet and fresh, and anything but a mess.

I gazed into the darkness and tried to determine what was happening. Judging by the movement underneath the covers I decided that Pierce was on top of Brandon. It had to be that way because I couldn't think of any other way to do it. The missionary position for men and boys! Talk about naïve, but the only thing I could think of was that there was no way that Pierce would let Brandon do it to him. It had the same likelihood as me allowing Ty do it to me. Somewhere between nil and zero. It wasn't something that a man did. Even Bobbie didn't do that? He was the one on top, wasn't he? Besides, if I needed any further evidence, the groans were coming from Pierce and the whimpers were coming from Brandon. I figured I knew that much at least.

"You reckon Pierce is doin' it to Brandon then?" I whispered nonetheless, ever ready to share my new found knowledge.

"Duh! 'course he's fuckin' doin' it ta Brando. Ya deaf or somethin', Terry? Maybe all that racin' has fucked yer hearin' fer good."

"Very funny," I growled in his ear. I was tempted to lick it, but I was not at all convinced he would have enjoyed it. "Remember, I'm new to this, Ace."

"Yer tellin' me."

"What happened to Mister Diction?"

"He's gone fer a holiday till t'morrow," Ty giggled. "Man, listen to 'em go at it. Brando's sure getting' it good. Uh, uh, uh," he mimicked.

It was true. I felt like a child, ignorant of the ways of the world, but a child who was very eager to learn all there was to learn. And all I had to do was listen to their muted whispers and the other sounds they made.

Ty giggled again, softly yet with a slight tremor. "That pretty much settles it, don't it Terry. If he's stickin' Brando in the butt, I reckon he's a fag like Bobbie and you."

He sounded happy, almost elated, as if a ponderous burden had been shifted from his narrow shoulders by the simple knowledge that Pierce was having sex with his nephew in the same way that Bobbie did with Trevor. I smiled in the darkness, suddenly realizing that I felt much the same way. I was relieved, mostly from knowing that men and boys really could have sex and both of them enjoy it. However, knowing what they were doing raised even more questions. There was no doubt about Bobbie being gay, but Pierce? Did that mean that I was gay as well? Ty seemed to think so, Even if older guys did nothing for me? Just boys! My libido had never extended to a male over the age of fourteen. In a way, I was still in love with little Gordon Jeffries, only he'd become Ty Kincaid along the way. I hadn't grown up, at least not how I was supposed to. I was in love with a ten-year-old boy. Did that make me gay, or something else?

"He's gonna be real sore in tha mornin'," Ty commented under his breath. "That's gotta hurt somethin' awful."

"Yeah, well like I said, Ace, yer talkin' to the wrong guy."

"Duh, like I don't know yer a rookie. I hope you know more about drivin' that havin' sex with guys."

He flicked my penis playfully with his finger and looked up to meet my eyes. In the darkness, I could barely see his pupils. Was it my imagination that I saw desire within? As he gazed at me, I couldn't help thinking that his need to be loved was barely held in check constrained.

"Compared to me, yer the expert, Ace," I replied.

"Yeah, well that ain't sayin' much. I told yer I messed 'round with Paul a few times. That's all I ever done. I seen his old man do him tha' once."

"Okay by me, Ace."

"Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"If I am a fag, Terry… I mean if I am 'n all, ya figure I'm goin' to grow up to be like Trev?"

I understood what he intended to say. As I saw it, Trevor was the guy on the bottom and Bobbie used him like a woman. I didn't want that for Ty.

"There's a lot worse ways of livin' yer life, Ty."

I took a deep breath and asked myself the same question. Ty and Trevor were different people, just as Bobbie and I were different people. We would have to find our own way.

That night was definitely a learning experience for me. Even though I'd never done anything like it, or even witnessed it before, I appreciated the theoretical possibilities of having anal sex with a boy. That was why I teased Ty about it so often, I think. The strange thing was that even though I realized it was men and boys did to show their love, and happily accepted that I would likely do the same thing to Ty if the opportunity ever arose, it had never sunk completely in. Right next to me was unavoidable in-your-face noisy sex. Part of me was shocked that they would go all the way with us in the room. Part of me wanted to believe that I was wrong, that they really weren't fucking, but there was only one reason why a boy gasped and whimpered like that, why bodies slapped rhythmically together, then stopped abruptly only to start again. They were certainly making it last, a good hard fuck that would make them sleep until noon the next day.

As I thought about it, listening intently, trying to imagine what Pierce and Brandon were feeling, I tried to convince myself that I should not be so surprised. It was only what two guys did after all. Being around Bobbie and Trevor had taught me that.

But fucking a boy in the ass? Not just any boy for me, but Ty Kincaid. It was no longer a remote concept like it had been before that night. It was real, immediate, and inescapable. It was happening in the video and in the bed beside me. The fact was that the basic sex act was satisfying for men and boys. Despite Ty's adverse reaction, men had sex with boys because it gave both of them pleasure.

"Oh God," Pierce growled. "Just keep doing that Brandon, and I'll shoot in no time."

"Urrr, don't…not yet…go slow…I need you…"

"Me too. Oh God, you little horn dog. You're tight baby. You want it faster?"

"Soon. Oh yesss," he hissed. "Just go slowww. Oh, oh yeah."

"Like this?"

"Ohhhhyeahh. No! Not ready… Go slow for a while. I don't want it to end."

"It's going to end soon. Damn, I'm so close."

"Yeah, me too. Keep goin' slow."

"God, you feel so hot. I could die happy fucking your beautiful little butt."

"Ohhhh! Oh yeah! I like it!"

"Can't hold on much longer, Brando. Jesus! Oh God. Here it comes. Fuck! Oh fuck! Yeah, that feels so good. Squeeze it out, baby. Squeeze out my cum."

Cum? The word shrieked in my mind when I realized what it meant. Even if Pierce and Brandon were related as uncle and nephew, and until then I had no reason to believe they were not, it was incest. However, incest was meaningless. Who cared? Not if they were in love. And they were. I'd been around them long enough to be certain. As I thought about it over the next few minutes, it didn't much matter whether they were uncle and nephew, or any man and boy who were more than just good friends. The sounds faded, then stopped completely. I heard whispers, nothing more than muffled sighs.

"Ya hear that?" Ty's lips were pressed to my ear.

"Yeah."

"He shot up Brando's butt!" Ty exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know."

"Gross huh?"

"I suppose. I didn't hear Brandon complain, did you?"

"I guess not," Ty admitted. "Pretty yucky though, havin' that slimy stuff inside ya."

"It's probably no worse for him than if Pierce fucked some woman."

"I s'pose. Hey, they're kissin' now, ain't they?"

"Sounds like it," I agreed.

"Man, that's like what Paul 'n his old man done after it, only the fuckin' bastard forced Paul ta do it. Slobberin' all over his face and stuff. It was gross."

"I reckon it's a whole different matter with them, Ty." A moment later, I added, "They love each other."

"Yeah, I know it," Ty said quietly.

I waited, worrying about what was going through his mind. Before we had talked on the beach there would have been nothing to worry about, but now his neurons were connecting, or whatever it was that happened in the brain when a person put two and two together and came up with… exactly what I had no idea. We loved each other too. No big deal, right? I was too old to have an epiphany like that. After what we'd said to each other on the beach, it was out in the open where we had to deal with it. I felt like I was rushing into something awfully important, without any preparation in advance, where the slightest mistake spelled disaster. You couldn't race a car like that and live through a season. It was so easy to end up on the fence. I had no idea what I was doing. Seeing Brandon and Pierce together only made it worse.

Ty's hand squeezed my bloated cock without warning. Suddenly, he seemed much bolder than before. His fingers pressed into my crotch, feeling the hardness that would not go away. His thumb creased the tip, sliding in the wetness that had formed there. It was oozing out. He blew a stream of warm air across my cheek. His fingers extended down onto my scrotum, searching for my testicles. Then, back to my penis, scratching along the shaft until he reached the tip again.

"He's always ready fer fun, ain't he?" he whispered in the darkness.

"Yeah." I took a risk. I took a deep breath. I hoped I was doing the right thing. "He'd like it more if you were touchin' him without yer clothes getting' in tha way."

"Yeah, him 'n me both."

"Well, what's keepin' ya, Ace?"

"Nuthin'." He wriggled closer, squeezing my bulge under his cupped hand. "Not now, anyways, Terry." "Why's that?"

"'cause I'm happy."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but it really didn't matter. Maybe it was lying beside me, maybe it was the possibility of being adopted, maybe… I gave up wondering what was going through his handsome head when I felt his lips brush my cheek. He was going to kiss me. I controlled my urge to meet his kiss with my lips. He barely touched me before he drew away. My hand eased onto his thigh, searching under the loose leg of his shorts. I found his tiny balls, steamy, sticky, loose, hot. No sign of his cock, not until my fingers crept higher towards his belly. He was hard, hot, horny like I was. A boy-bone that felt like Detroit steel sheathed in silk. Nothing could be softer, except his balls.

"It feels like yer ready fer some fun too?" I murmured. I stroked his boy-cock and he sighed and pushed it harder into my hand. His grip tightened on my shaft, squeezing.

"Duh! I got a hold of yer eight inches [20 cm] and ya got a hold of my four inches [10 cm]. It feels good, don' it? Even if mine's half tha' size."

I didn't bother correcting him. Holding Ty's cock was like holding my finger. It was unrelenting in its stiffness, and about the same size.

"Can I take ya shorts off, Ace?"

"If ya wanna." Ty smirked. "But only if I get ta take yers off too."

I flipped him onto his back, fumbling as I tried to undo the knotted cord that kept his shorts up. They were still low on his rump from when he'd mooned Pierce so the cord was tight and hard to unfasten. There was laughter from the other side of the room, but it didn't bother me. They were watching. It was only fair. Besides, I was having too much fun to quit. Finally, I got the cord undone. There was a line of Velcro under it. I ripped it open, making a sound like something tearing. Another giggle that had to come from Brandon.

"There goes his pants," Pierce chuckled.

Then, grabbing handfuls of cloth on either side of his hips, I dragged his shorts down, down his thighs, down to his knees, down to his feet before I stopped. Then off! I sent them sailing across the room. I think they hit the far wall.

Brandon laughed and I heard the wet slap of flesh. I didn't give myself time to think. For all I knew they were sitting up and watching. I was on a roll. I straddled Ty, sitting above his knees. No doubt they could see me in the glow from the television set, but who cared? Not me! Ty grinned up at me shamelessly naked from the waist down. His dick pointed north, begging to be touched, maybe even sucked. I would do it too, but not while he still had clothes on. I tickled his sides for a second, going for his armpits before he clamped his arms down I pushed the shirt higher, fingering his tiny nipples on the way. He helped by sitting up a bit, lifting his arms up to assist. I dragged the shirt past his head. It joined the shorts on the other side of the room.

"And there goes his shirt," Pierce added. "We're down to bare skin for one of them." He made it sound like he was calling a close race.

"Now you!" Ty demanded, ignoring the audience. His voice was urgent, crackling with excitement.

From where he lay, he reached up, extending his skinny brown arms to my neck. His fingers began to unfasten the single button of my polo-shirt. He licked his lips. Hazy light flickered across his face as the television droned on. How long could guys have sex for without a break? Not that long! It had to be pretend. It was also boring. It would have been more fun to watch a tennis match. It was right up there with golf, in my opinion. If people wanted thrills, they turned to nascar.

Ty's hands moved to my sides, tugging the shirt up, then gathering the folds, he lifted higher, bunching the shirt at my armpits. I leaned over him, realizing that my cock was pressed against his lower belly, against his little cock. It felt good to be that close to him. I could have stayed like that all night. His hands tugged and awkwardly worked the shirt over my arms and shoulders, past my head. I lifted up again. In the dim light I saw a smear of shiny wetness crossing from his lower belly past his navel to halfway up his chest. Ty grinned proudly. He gazed up at me, his eyes wide, his big dark pools, taking everything in.

"Now yer pants, Terry."

He said it loud enough that the people in the next bed heard. Pierce stifled a laugh.

"Sounds like Terry's getting stripped off ready for action," he said aloud.

I almost said 'fuck you'. I glanced across the room. For the first time, I saw them, Brandon above Pierce, sort of sitting above his hips, but lying so their chests were together. His knees were outside Pierce's hips. I couldn't remember them changing position. I gave a moment's thought to how they could have had sex in that position. It didn't make a lot of sense, yet my intuition was very clear on one thing. Pierce's cock was still inside Brandon.

Ty pulled on my arm, letting me know that he wanted me to lie down again. I moved onto my side, looking at his small dark body as if seeing it for the first time. There were lines of ribs, the firmness of future six-pack muscles in his taut brown belly, his rigid unwavering cock poking up. His fingers came to my belt buckle. It was a lot easier to unfasten than the cord that held his shorts up. The metal button took longer because my belly got in the way, but then my pants were open at the front. I lifted my body up awkwardly. Ty grinned and shoved my pants down my thighs.

He couldn't push them any further without moving from where he lay beside me. Suddenly, he spun around, coming to his knees. He clambered over my, pulling my pants and briefs down as he headed towards my feet. His butt, pinched and pale pointed at my face. That beautiful butt, small and firm, and everything that a butt was supposed to be. I licked my lips as the thought of what was between his cheeks. It was positively fuckable.

"What ya staring at?" Ty asked over his shoulder, as if he didn't know.

"Well, ah'm looking at ya, ain't I?" I laughed. "Mister tattoo butt."

"Next time I'm puttin' some on yer butt, Terry."

After tossing my pants on the floor next to the bed, Ty bounced back up and flopped down on top of me. I liked him lying them, his head on my chest, his little boy-dick pressed alongside my man-cock. It was how life was supposed to be.

"It feels good, but just so ya know, yer takin' advantage of me," I teased.

"Huh?"

"'cause I had a bit too much ta drink."

"A bit?" Ty raised his voice a notch. "Yer drunk as a skunk."

He didn't let go easily. Neither did I. I kept thinking, 'this is the way it's supposed to be.' He was a boy's boy, a man's boy, everything that a boy should be. No wonder Pierce wanted him to become the All-American boy. Ty lifted up slightly and his hand slipped between us. Again, his fingers and thumb closed around my cock, possessing me again. I could tell from his grip that he wasn't about to let go in the near future.

Pierce laughed suddenly from the other bed. "It sounds like I'm not the only one who's being taken advantage of," he said after he regained his breath.

"It's the only way," Brandon added. Even though he sounded tired, his voice was still quivering with excitement. "Hey Ty?"

"Yeah."

He didn't take his hand away. Instead, his thumb rubbed slowly back and forth across the gaping oozing slit. I trembled beneath his touch, straining to make it even harder, harder for him.

"You guys gonna do it or what?" Brandon asked from the darkness. "

Ty looked down at me, his face so close to mine that all I saw were his big black eyes. He was asking the same question in his own way. At that point, all I had to do was say yes, or nod my head, or roll him onto his back and do what I wanted to do. He was beyond saying 'no'.

"No," I said quietly.

"I thought you guys were getting in the mood for some action. It sounded pretty hot and heavy there for a while. You mean you aren't going to do it?" Pierce asked.

"I got some KY here if you need it," Brandon added suggestively.

"We are. But not tonight." I smiled. "Ty and me have a deal, see. When the time's right, I'm going nail his ass well and truly. I promise I'll call you when I do. Until then, his butt's off limits. That's right, ain't it Ty?"

"Uh huh. If Terry wins a race he gets to do it, see. It's a centive or whatever it's called fer him to try real hard to win."

"Incentive?" Pierce asked.

"Yeah, that's it. Incentive!"

"I like that idea. I like it a lot." Pierce laughed. "Hey, you know something, Terry? I bet it'll send cereal sales soaring."

I reached between us, finding a hot hard Ty junior. With my other hand on his back I lifted up, arching into him, pursing my lips. I was going to kiss him, kiss him properly, not just play lip-games with him. I felt his arm move behind my neck. His lips pressed onto mine. They were firm and soft at the same time, like the rest of his body, like the throbbing little thing I held in my hand. We parted quickly. My heart pounded like it did after a near collision on the track. It was a glancing blow, but the kind of impact that could send a car careening out of control if a driver overreacted. I had to work hard to breath.

"Oh Ty… Oh man. That was good," I murmured.

He didn't reply. His arm tightened again, pulling our heads back together. Our lips came together again His hand squeezed tightly, squeezing out more of my oozing fluid only to smeared by his slowly circling thumb. His lips moved against mine, making little kisses, not really passionate, but not tentative either. Finally, I did the only thing I could think of. I pressed my tongue against his lips. I wasn't sure of what I wanted, or why I did it. Maybe it was just to make them wet instead of dry. I moved the tip of my tongue back and forth between his lips, not pushing inside, not without an invitation. Our lips began to move in unison. His arm became my pillow, kept my head where it was, his hand clasping my shoulder. His other hand started rubbing, very slowly, going up and down a few inches.

"They're making out at least," Brandon observed.

"Give them time, Brando," Pierce said. "Ty's a lot younger than you were when you started."

"I was nearly eleven when you fucked me the first time."

"Yes, you were. But we'd also spent a lot of time together."

They were listening, but it was only fair. We kept on kissing, still not going beyond touching lips. Neither of us cared. Suddenly, the boy who had been lying over me was lying half over me. One lean leg was pushed between my thighs, his groin squashed against my hip so I had to take my hand away. Ty's warmth flowed into me, enlivening me, driving the alcohol haze into the distance. His hand kept moving on my cock, relentlessly up and down. His thumb stroked across the head, then pulled back to brace his fingers as his hand slid down my cock. Longer strokes, using friction the way friction was supposed to be used. It wasn't anything like jerking off. It was deliberate torture by a ten-year-old boy. My balls drew up, wrinkled into a knot. His body began to hump, rubbing his engorged little sex against me while his hand made corresponding movements on my cock. And still, his indulgent lips stayed over mine, darting from side to side, pecking, adding drool of his own so that our lips became slippery, sliding, not sticking. He was teaching himself how to kiss, discovering how to pleasure me, how to satisfy himself.

"Turn the TV off on your way, Brando," Pierce said quietly from the other side of the room.

Only then did we break apart. Brandon's shadow crossed the room on the way to the bathroom. His naked body was illuminated by the television. He looked none the worse for wear, although one hand was cupped behind him, just in case, I expected. He had to be full of Pierce's semen. He'd been fucked for nearly ten minutes, but it didn't appear to bother him one bit. He switched the television off, but just before he did so, he turned and grinned at us. Then, the room was dark except for what little light managed to enter through a narrow slit between the curtains. The toilet flushed. Brandon padded back into the room, got back into bed, settled down next to Pierce.

"Okay?" Pierce asked. He sounded concerned.

"Uh huh. Not much came out."

"I'm not surprised. It was in all the way. I put the towel down just in case you leak a bit. How's it feel?"

"It's just a bit sore, that's all."

"Sorry champ. Can't help that. We'll take it easy tomorrow."

Then, silence again. Ty went back to his kissing game. It was almost possible to convince myself that it was just the two of us in the room. Yet, as his hand rubbed along my cock and his lips danced on my mouth I could tell something was bothering him. Finally, I eased his head away.

"What's wrong, Ace?" I whispered.

"Nuthin'."

"Yeah there is. Ya wanna talk?"

Ty shrugged. It took a few moments before he said anything. I had to listen hard to catch what he said.

"What they done…"

"Yeah? It bothers ya, huh?"

"Sort of. Terry? He liked it."

"Brandon?"

"Yeah. He liked it, didn't he?"

He wanted me to reassure him, but I really didn't know what to say. He'd watched another boy having sex once before, and there had been blood. The boy was his best friend and he had screamed in pain. It had been rape, not love. All I could be certain of was that having sex with Pierce hadn't hurt Brandon more than making him slightly uncomfortable. It was reassuring.

"I guess," I ventured.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I reckon that's how it is when ya love someone a lot, Ace."

"Ya wanna stick me, don't ya Terry?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Maybe one day, huh? Not tonight though. When ya wanna do it, I'll be more than willin'."

Ty hugged me. "I love ya, a lot, Terry," he admitted shyly.

"Yeah, I know that, babe. I love you too."

"I'll do it when ya win, okay?" He looped his little finger around mine and shook. "Pinky swear, okay? You can fuck me all you want then, I promise."

"Okay."

"Ya want me to git ya off, Terry?"

"Not tonight. It's late. Ya need ta sleep dude. So do I."

Ty peeled himself away after a final parting squeeze. "I know I promised I was goin' to suck him, so I'm takin' care 'a 'im in tha mornin'," he promised.

"Good night beautiful."

"Terry…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever leave me. Please?"

"I won't," I said. I kissed his forehead, then each eyebrow.

"If ya do, Terry, I'll kill ma-self."

"Me too, kid."

"Terry?"

"Yeah, Ace?"

"Ya think she'll really give me up to you?"

"Yeah… she will if I have anything to do with it."

"Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't make me go back to her? Promise me ya won't, Terry?"

"I promise, Ace."

I shouldn't have promised, but I did. That was the golden rule I lived by. Never promise something you couldn't deliver. However, I intended to do whatever it took to keep Ty with me from then on, even if it meant giving up racing all together and moving to Canada, or Mexico, or someplace where we'd never be found. He was never going back to that dump in Florida. I fell asleep thinking of the all the work waiting for me in Asheville, imagining Bobbie taking Ty's go-kart apart piece by piece, the same way he did with my car. In a single night, my life had changed. There were decisions to be made, things that had to be done in order to get the team competitive, but I couldn't decide what needed to be done first. For the first time, I had a real sponsor, largely thanks to Ty Kincaid. Ty Kincaid, the all-American boy, the boy whose beautiful face and sexy tattooed chest would soon start appearing on cereal boxes across the country.

The End