PART FOUR – The Executive Suite

Chapter 4: Helping My Brothers

I’d been tossing and turning in bed most of the evening, after waking from yet another nightmare about my dad. Rob was over in Sammy’s bed, snoring away. He could sleep through anything. I, on the other hand, had a lot on my mind, and sleep was elusive. I’d gone to work that morning assuming that my day would be filled with pulling and replacing servers, refurbishing them and occasionally troubleshooting them. If there was any time left over, I was gonna use it to work on the remaining problems on the mathematics qualifying exam. I expected to have a nice Sierra Turkey sandwich from Panera Bread for lunch, then come home to a home-cooked meal with the family. I assumed Sammy would be spending the weekend at his girlfriend’s place, under the watchful eyes of her parents, and Henry and Darren were gonna go out to dinner and see a movie, then spend the night having wild sex. Maybe I would’ve been kept awake by that instead of having the events of the day swirling around in my head.

My day was shot to hell when the suits showed up at work, and then I was on my way in a fancy stretch limo to a private club downtown. They plied me with gourmet food and disarming conversation, and even without alcohol, they extracted information from me with the skill of the best CIA operatives, and I gave it up willingly. They deliberately held back their most important trump cards until there was no way to deny the truth. They already had my server designs in all their glory, and they already knew I’d falsified my identity. They could expose me at any time they wanted, but not even that was enough for them. They knew there was more, and the mere threat of probing my past was enough to get me to explain how I’d killed my father and then fled on bicycle.

They could end my life as I knew it at any time, sending me to prison for the rest of my life. However, they could protect me perhaps better than I could ever hope to protect myself. They already had the fruits of my server design, but they realized I was worth far more than that. I’d designed the server in a single evening, and if I was capable of that, my future innovations could be worth billions to them. It was no wonder they were willing to double my salary, yet my longstanding feelings of inadequacy were still there, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was really worth that kind of money to anyone. Were my situation different – had I arrived without so much baggage or with a conventional set of college degrees – I might have been able to negotiate for a better deal, for a larger share of some of that revenue I brought them. Perhaps someday that might be possible. However, what I was left with wasn’t half bad, so long as Applazon held up their end of the bargain.

The bottom line was that if I delivered for Applazon, was loyal to them and toed the line, they’d protect me from my past, help me achieve my educational goals for the future and give me the authority to do things generally reserved for people two, three, four and even five times my age. My real age, that is. Already, I’d been placed in charge of a group of engineers and technicians with responsibility of making my server design into reality. Obviously, there’d be a spy among them. There was no way they’d let a kid be in charge without someone to report back to corporate and to prevent our work from going off the rails. I wondered if I’d be able to spot them.

As I lay there, wide awake, I sensed the bedroom door opening very slowly and saw the shadow of someone stepping inside. The figure approached my side of the room and my bed, and stooped down close enough to whisper, “J.J., are you awake?” Even in a whisper, I recognized it as Henry’s voice.

“Yeah, Henry, I’m awake,” I replied in a whisper. “I haven’t been able to sleep at all.”

“Darren and I haven’t been able to sleep, either,” he responded. “Would you mind joining us in our room?” he asked.

“Not at all,” I responded. “Is this an invitation to an orgy?” I asked with what I’m sure was a bemused expression that was lost in the darkness of the room.

“Darren and I aren’t into that kinda thing,” Henry responded earnestly, “but we wouldn’t mind some advice.” It was hard trying not to snicker given the seriousness with which he took my attempt at humor.

I started to get out of bed, but then stopped and asked, “Could I borrow a pair of boxers from you? I can’t get my own without waking Rob up.”

“No worries, J.J.,” Henry answered. “I’m not wearing anything now, nor is Darren. We don’t mind a little nudity. I’ve seen your privates, lots of times, and Darren knows what you’ve got.”

“What if I’d rather wear something?” I asked.

“That’s up to you, J.J.,” Henry answered, “but I hope you won’t. I’d feel more comfortable if we’re all the same.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I got up and followed Henry to the other bedroom, the one I used to share with Rob. What I saw inside was, for lack of a better word, romantic. All over the room, there were lit candles, scented candles in a mix of compatible scents. There was apple, peach, cinnamon and pumpkin spice. I was never a touchy-feely sort of guy, but I had to admit that the overall effect was dreamy, suffusing the room in soft light. There was soft music playing in the background that I recognized immediately as Miles Davis’ classic album Kind of Blue, but in spite of the low volume of playback, the sound was more pristine than anything I’d ever heard. Darren was lying down on top of the bed, his torso fully exposed as well as part of his left hip, with his most intimate parts hidden by the satin sheets draped over them.

In the candlelight I could see Henry’s left eye, which was completely black and swollen but not swollen shut. “How do you feel, Henry?” I asked.

“Believe me, I’ve been through worse,” he answered. “It was just a shock to hear such homophobic comments thrown my way. At school, the teachers don’t tolerate that kind of shit, and the hall monitors actually do their jobs. I’ve heard it doesn’t work that way in other places, but I’ve felt safe in school.”

“The same could be said for me, too,” Darren chimed in. “There are several out couples and there’s an active GSA. Yes, there are a number of troglodytes, but we avoid them, and they know the teachers won’t put up with their shit. Our school has a mix of kids from older parts of Bellevue that are lower middle class and neighborhoods like ours that are affluent, near the river and full of trees. It sometimes causes friction, but not much.”

“Did you know the kids who attacked you?” I asked.

Shaking his head, Henry replied, “They go to Bellevue West High School, our chief rival. That’s actually in the newer and nicer section of Bellevue, but it was carved out of farmland and they had a lot of flooding from the bomb cyclone. Our house would sell for more than a comparable house in the new part of Bellevue, even though it’s something like thirty or forty years older.”

“Yeah, but your family did amazing things when they renovated it,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I know,” Henry replied, “but it was worth renovating this one as opposed to having one built new for us over there. But getting back to who did this,” he went on, “it was a group of five boys from Bellevue West High who I guess took issue with a couple of teenage boys holding hands. The kids who chased them away recognized them, though, and they spoke to the police, so hopefully they’ll be arrested for assault and battery. A girl even captured some of it on her phone, and that’s now in the hands of the police, too. They’ll probably get away with having to do community service, but at least it should make them think.”

“I’d rather they spent a little time in Juvie,” I responded. “They should only know what it’s like to be on lockdown. It makes being grounded look like a picnic.”

“Were you in Juvie?” Henry asked. Oops.

“I told you about my stuff being stolen,” I answered. “But what I didn’t say was that when I was caught in a rainstorm and had to take cover in a picnic shelter, I was woken up by a cop hovering over me.”

“Oh, shit,” Darren responded from over on the bed. Taking a cue from him, I sat down backwards on the desk chair with my arms resting on the chair back.

“He was a real local yokel, and even though Hannibal’s a city, it’s not much of one. I asked him if we could at least secure my bike and my things. I hadn’t bothered to lock anything up, and he just left everything there, out in the open, and stuffed me into his squad car. I never had a chance to go back and look for it, but there’s no way it wasn’t stolen or confiscated.

“What they were supposed to do was to turn me over to CPS, regardless of whether or not I cooperated. I didn’t want to take a chance on being sent back home, so I refused to tell them anything about me. I guess they weren’t used to dealing with runaways. Rather than turn me over to CPS, they sent me to the nearest juvenile-detention facility, in a dinky town in the middle of nowhere. They kept me isolated from the general population, and I thought it was as punishment, but the real reason was probably that I would have found out from the other kids that they either had to charge me with a crime within 72 hours or release me. Releasing me would have meant involving CPS, and that would’ve involved more paperwork than they could stomach.

“They basically tried to hold me indefinitely. The worst of it was they put me in seventh grade because they thought I looked like I was twelve. I didn’t want to take a chance on telling them I was really a high-school senior ’cause they might have been able to figure out where I came from if they knew.” I filled Henry and Darren in on how I’d faked internal bleeding to go to the hospital, and then used that to get myself transferred to the Hilltop School, and how I escaped while at a doctor’s appointment.

“Damn,” Henry exclaimed. “The more we get to know you, the more interesting things we learn about you.”

“Trust me, there are things you’re better off not knowing,” I responded.

“I bet I can figure some of it out,” Darren responded. “For example, you’re not really sixteen. I could believe fifteen, but I’d bet my final grade in geometry that you’re fourteen. You don’t have to tell me, but your failure to deny it pretty much proves it.

“Secondly, you told us your old man used to abuse you, and even though you didn’t mention it, I’m sure you meant he abused you sexually. Maybe he porked you or maybe he made you go down on him, but it musta made you fear for your life. Again, your failure to deny it makes me think that it’s true.

“Finally, you said he threw you out for bein’ gay, but that woulda meant losin’ his only access to sex with you. He might have done a lot of things, but he wouldn’t have made you leave. Something horrible musta happened for you to leave home and travel a thousand miles away. Kids run away for a variety of reasons but not all of them very good ones once you dive under the surface, but they don’t leave unless they feel they’ve run out of options.

“So, my best guess is that something happened that crossed a line. Maybe it was his temper, maybe he tried to fuck you or maybe he had a temper and tried to kill you in his rage. Maybe that was enough, but why all the secrecy? I’d put my money on that he tried to kill you, and you did the only thing you could and killed him instead. Again, I don’t hear any denials, nor do I expect a confirmation, either. I’m not going to bring it up again.”

“I swear, I didn’t tell him!” Henry suddenly cried out, confirming Darren’s suspicions whether he intended to or not. Fuck! Too many people knew.

“You knew about it, Henry?” Darren asked his boyfriend.

“You remember when J.J. discovered I’m a math genius?” Henry asked and Darren nodded his head. “That’s not all he figured out about me. He also realized I was suicidal ’cause he went through something similar.”

“Fuck!” Darren interrupted.

“It was then that J.J. told me his story,” Henry explained. “It wasn’t that he told me his darkest secrets for the fun of it. He told me to save my life. My family doesn’t know most of it. Just me, and now I’m in counseling. So’s my family.”

I responded with what sounded to me like a shaky voice, “I can’t talk about it, Darren. The last thing I want to do is put you guys in the middle of all the horseshit if everything blows up. Let’s just say that my superiors at Applazon know everything now, and they seem genuine in saying they’ll do everything they can to protect me. I don’t think I’m a bad kid.”

“Of course, you’re not a bad kid, J.J.,” Henry responded. “You’re awesome. You’re the best friend a guy could ever have. You’re like another brother to me, and I think I can speak for the whole family when I say I love you completely. You saved my life.”

“That goes for me, too,” Darren added. “If it had been me with your dad, I’d have been the one who was dead ’cause I’d have frozen up and been killed without even defending myself. I don’t have one tenth the courage you have.”

“I’m not courageous,” I replied.

“You’re the bravest person I know.” Henry countered and I ended up crying on his shoulder.

As the tears slowly subsided, I became aware of a few things, that we were all three of us naked, that there were candles all around and that the soft music of one of the great jazz classics was playing in the background. Obviously, this was supposed to be a special night for the boys, but the events from earlier at the theater had perhaps spoiled the mood.

Taking the conversation in an oblique direction, I asked. “By the way, I’ve never heard Kind of Blue sound so good before. Is this on vinyl?” I asked. I’d never heard anything on vinyl before but sometimes wondered if all the hype was true.

“Actually, it’s a high-res digital version,” Henry explained. “Vinyl eventually wears out. CDs get scratched, and the silver starts to oxidize after about twenty years. They make metal CDs that don’t degrade, but the bandwidth’s still limited. SACDs sound awesome but they’re hard as fuck to find, as are optical drives that can play them. Digital files can be maintained forever, and they’re not limited by the bandwidth of physical media.

“A CD is recorded at a sample rate of 44.1kHz and digitized to only sixteen bits per channel for digital streaming. It’s usually compressed even more using a bit rate of 256 kbps for Applazon, or 384 kbps for Spotify.” All of this I knew, but I’d never given much thought to it before. “If you do the math, a CD’s bit rate is 1411 kbps for stereo. That might sound like enough to cover what the human ear can discern —”

“But it’s not,” I broke in. “16 bits yields a dynamic range of over 90 db, which is greater than that of the human ear, except that the human ear’s dynamic. A CD’s static. The effective dynamic range of the human ear is well over a hundred db if you account for its dynamic sensitivity, and that sample rate’s awfully close to the Nyquist frequency. By the time you factor in quantization error, jitter and the vagaries of digital filters, you’re either gonna hafta limit bandwidth or tolerate some aliasing. So, you up-sample, interpolate and apply a digital ‘brick wall’ filter. Those all introduce errors, but when the signal’s in the kilohertz range and the processor’s in the gigahertz range, that’s negligible. Still, a higher sampling rate and greater bit depth would be better still.”

“Okay, that’s a little bit more than I intended to say or even knew about,” Henry responded, “but obviously you understand why not even CDs are good enough. So, there are sites that stream or sell music in high-resolution formats. A CD of Kind of Blue is 16-bit, 44.1kHz. The recording we’re listening to is 24-bit, 192kHz.”

“Whoa, it really makes a difference!” I exclaimed.

“Of course, you need a decent set of speakers to be able to hear it,” Henry added. “I have a pair of LSX speakers. They’re the baby version of the acclaimed wireless LS50s, at half the price. I got them on sale for just under a grand.” I whistled at that. “The nice thing is that they include Wi-Fi and Bluetooth as well as wired Ethernet and can stream music from the Internet as well as from a computer or smartphone. The built-in DAC and Class D amp support up to 192-24. It’s too bad it doesn’t support DSD natively the way the better discrete DACs do, but It’s nice to be able to stream directly to the speakers. The only problem is the weak bass, which is why there’s a Kube 10 subwoofer under the bed. That set me back another $700 on sale.” Yikes!

“It’s your system… not Rob’s?” I asked.

“Rob’s content with a cheap set of Anker Bluetooth earbuds,” he answered. “Sammy was pissed when I took the speakers with me when we exchanged rooms, but he’s not much better than Rob when it comes to spending money on decent sound. Of course, you still do need headphones or earbuds for when you’re traveling. I’m saving up for a pair of Sennheiser Momentum 3 True Wireless earbuds, but those’ll set me back a few hundred bucks unless they go on sale. They look dorky but CNET rated them an impressive 9.4 out of ten for sound.”

“Where does a kid get that kind of money?” I wondered aloud.

“We all get an allowance, but that’s for clothes and food too,” Henry explained. “It doubles when we start high school, so I’m getting a big raise in the fall. At least with a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend, we always go Dutch. For all the talk of equality, more often than not, boys still treat girls. You also won’t see me wearing designer labels, and I brown-bag it for lunch. Otherwise, I save my money for audiophile stuff, including a student subscription to Tidal and the occasional high-res download. Darren and I share those.”

“I’m more into classical music, and I play the cello in the school orchestra,” Darren chimed in, “but music’s a priority for both of us. We’d just as soon go to hear the symphony or go to a jazz club rather than rock concert, but those are very expensive. Unfortunately, most jazz clubs are in bars, where we’re not allowed. Better to save our money and buy audiophile equipment for listening at home while we snuggle up together. I’ll make an exception for Marvel Comics, though. The movies are awesome.”

“How was the movie?” I asked.

“It was amazing,” Henry chimed in. “It was so cool. Endgame’s the best Avengers movie yet.” I spent the next half hour listening to the boys banter back and forth as they talked about the movie, jumping around the plot so much that I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Personally, I could take or leave superhero stories. They were all so contrived. There was plenty of evil in the world without having to invent supervillains. The current president in my opinion was dangerous enough. There were plenty of villains in the world, and the damage they did was bad enough. I should know ’cause I lived with one for thirteen years of my life, and no superheroes came to rescue me. On the other hand, maybe they did. They had names like Rodriguez and Gonzalez and hid on earth as ordinary people.

As I sat there on the desk chair, Henry and Darren lay together in bed, snuggled up together and constantly giving each other little touches. As the talk wound down, they started exchanging pecks and kisses, and before long they were making out. It was incredibly hot, and I was rock hard, but not wishing to be a voyeur, I slowly rose from the chair and started to make my way to the door, when the boys abruptly separated and Henry called out, “J.J.? Why are you leaving?”

“I thought you two would prefer the privacy,” I answered earnestly. “Wouldn’t you two rather be alone?”

“No,” they both said at the same time, and then Henry added, “We have questions. We wanna take it to the next level, but there’s a lot we don’t know.”

“Please stay,” Darren added. “Come over here.”

I understood how they wanted my help, but I was aroused and that would only get worse as they engaged each other in raw, teenage, boy-on-boy sex. Recognizing that being honest is almost always the best way, I responded, “This is embarrassing. I’m already aroused from just watching you make out, and that’s only gonna get worse. It could get…uncomfortable.”

“You’re welcome to jack off while you watch us,” Henry said with a smirk. “I know that’s not exactly what you meant, but short of making love to your boyfriend, if you can’t jerk off with friends while they make love, who can you jerk off with?” What an awkward position for me, but then the boys both said, “Please,” at the same time, and my heart melted. Nodding, I started to head back to the chair, but Darren motioned for me to join them on the bed. I lay down next to them and propped myself up on one elbow.

Remembering how it had been with Greg in Springfield, I had been thankful that he knew what to do, even if he wasn’t experienced. I loved Greg and probably still did. Perhaps that was why I hadn’t put any effort into dating or finding a boyfriend of my own. Regardless, these two boys next to me were every bit as much in love as any two boys could be. They’d shown me more brotherly love than I’d ever experienced before, and I couldn’t deny them. They were inexperienced and scared and clueless when it came to the full range of pleasuring the one you love. I couldn’t deny them, no matter how weird this might become.

“Okay, guys, this is gonna be uncomfortable for all of us,” I began. “Like they say, the only stupid question is the one that was never asked. Even when in the throes of ecstasy, your boyfriend isn’t gonna know he’s not in the right spot or that he’s hurting you unless you tell him. It’s also important to communicate what you like, what makes you feel good. Sometimes your partner might not like the same things you do, and so you may hafta find substitutes to give you pleasure.” God, this was embarrassing. “A case in point is that some guys like being fucked and sucked at the same time. I can understand that. It sounds searing hot, but I’m not interested in group sex, and a threesome isn’t nearly as intimate as a making love with your one-and-only true love. For many guys, simply using a finger to stroke your partner’s prostate when you suck them works as well. Others may require something more, like a dildo, to give them pleasure.”

“Do they make vibrating dildos?” Darren asked.

Grinning, I answered, “They certainly do. It’s mostly girls that use them to masturbate. A sexual vibrator is essentially just that, but the business end can be anything from a smooth, hard- plastic, oblong piece to a very realistic-looking penis.

“Getting back to basics,” I continued, “you can get your partner off in many ways. I take it you’ve already jerked each other and traded blowjobs?”

Both boys nodded yes, but Henry asked, “We’ve never tried sticking anything up the butt while doin’ it, though. That really sounds hot. Where can we get dildos?”

“Most cities have shops that sell them,” I answered, “but they might not even be allowed to sell them to minors. I think that’s really silly. What are you supposed to do, ask your mother to take you to the local sex shop to help you pick out and buy one? I can just picture it. Instead of, ‘There’s not enough room in the crotch,’ you’ll hear, ‘Hmm, this one slides in a little too easily, and it doesn’t seem to be reaching his prostate.’” It was taking all the effort we had to keep from turning our quiet snickers into boisterous laughter and waking up the entire household.

“Have you guys tried mutual fellatio?” I asked.

“Fellatio is the proper term for oral sex, right?” Henry asked and I nodded. “So mutual fellatio is a 69?”

“Right again,” I confirmed.

“We tried it, but it was much more difficult than I thought it would be,“ Darren said. “Henry’s dick was pointing toward his chin, and it was so stiff that I couldn’t pull it down to get it in my mouth. I had to crane my neck and slide down a bit, which made it harder for Henry to suck me at the same time. It was harder to bob up and down on him, and I kept gagging and scraping him with my back teeth. We ended up just sucking on the tip and jacking each other with our hands. It wasn’t nearly as much fun as just sucking each other was.”

“There is no right way,” I responded. “For some, the logistics of a 69 just don’t work out for them, especially when they’re still growing. Some people prefer to concentrate on giving their partner pleasure and prefer to blow each other one at a time because of that. Most people like to lie on their sides for a 69, but some find it easier for one to lie on his back and the other to approach from above.”

“Holy fuck, I would have never thought of doin’ that,” Henry exclaimed. “How does the guy on top keep from smothering the guy underneath?”

“Death by mutual fellatio?” Darren asked, and then he slipped into a deep, radio announcer’s voice and said, “The autopsy revealed that the governor died from suffocation as a result of mutual fellatio.” All three of us were in hysterics and fighting a losing battle to keep quiet.

When I finally could speak, I continued, “The only real risk of suffocation, I think, is from deep throating. After all, penises don’t come with a ‘choking hazard’ warning; however, learning to suppress the gag reflex takes a lot of practice in the first place. A lot of guys practice with something like a carrot or a peeled banana. Practice makes perfect, after all.”

“What about fetishes?” Henry asked. “Are they normal?”

“I think everyone has some fetishes,” I replied. “No one really knows why. A lot of people are turned on by feet. Things like sucking on toes, licking between toes, going around barefoot or in smelly sneakers. It all seems so strange, but so is sex when you get down to it. I mean, is sticking your penis up your boyfriend’s asshole supposed to serve a purpose? It does with a vagina, but how many guys have sex with their girlfriends because they want to become fathers? I think it’s quite the opposite – and certainly at our age.

“I like feet, and I’m not ashamed of it. The thought of a boy’s dirty, smelly feet on my face makes me hard as steel. I have a fetish for armpits, too. Someday, I’d like to jerk off in my boyfriend’s armpit. Bare armpits turn me on and licking them drives me insane, especially if they’re a little bit sweaty.”

“Is it weird to be turned on by piss?” Darren asked quietly.

“It’s common enough that it has a couple of names,” I replied. “They call it watersports or golden showers.”

“I’ve seen those words on the internet,” Darren said a bit more excitedly. “I just didn’t know what they meant.”

“Do you like scat?” I asked.

“Scat?” Darren said in confusion.

“It’s a sexual word for shit,” I explained. “Some guys get off on being shit on or rubbing themselves with shit or even eating shit.”

Getting a look of pure revulsion on his face, Darren asked, “People do that?”

“Not many, but some,” I replied. “A lot of us like rimming, and most of us enjoy sticking fingers up each other’s ass and, of course, our dicks.”

“That’s different,” Darren claimed, but then asked, “What’s rimming?”

“It sounds disgusting,” I replied, “but keep an open mind. It’s one of the most pleasurable, sensual things two guys can do, both for the one doing it and the one it’s done to. It involves running the tip of your tongue around your boyfriend’s anus or maybe licking it or even sticking your tongue into the asshole and fucking it with your tongue.”

“People do that?” Henry asked. “I’ve heard the term but didn’t realize what it was.”

“People definitely do that,” I replied. “I’ve done it and it’s been done to me. You can’t imagine how good it feels until it’s been done to you, nor can you imagine how wonderful it is to do it to someone you really like until you experience their pleasure.”

“Wow! I’m definitely gonna want to try it,” Henry responded, “but getting back to watersports, it’s not really my thing, but it gives Darren a lot of pleasure and that gives me pleasure, like you said. The trouble is that there aren’t many opportunities to do stuff like that. When we were younger, we used to go out in the woods and we’d get naked and pee on each other and then come back and jump in the pool, but that was before we could cum. The risk of getting caught made it that much more fun, but with Darren in high school, he’s scared out of his mind of being discovered, so we haven’t done it since last summer.”

“Is there a possibility of spending time together in the bathroom at your house, Darren?” I asked.

“No fuckin’ way,” he replied. “My parents would be banging on the door, demanding to get in.”

“At least that wouldn’t happen here,” Henry interjected. “The problem here is with my brothers. There are no locks on the bathroom door, and Sammy or Rob could barge in at any time. Hell, I can’t keep them from taking a dump if they need to. Either way, there’d be no privacy.”

“We need another bathroom,” I suggested.

“Yeah, and where do you plan to put the porta-potty?” Henry asked. “That’s the only way I can see of adding another bathroom.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” I responded but didn’t elaborate, getting curious looks from both Henry and Darren. Then getting another thought, I asked, “What about at your house, Darren, when you first get home from school.”

“Mom works from home,” he replied. Fuck.

“Oh, well, summer’s coming, and the woods await,” I suggested. “You’ll just hafta keep your speedos on.”

“That…might…work,” Henry thought aloud. “It might be fun, pissing into our speedos and sliding all over each other.”

“Yeah, that would be very hot,” Darren agreed, “and it wouldn’t be so obvious if someone found us, at least until we start fucking or sucking each other.”

“I so don’t need to hear this,” I responded.

“So, regarding fucking, how should we proceed?” Henry asked. Talk about changing the mood. Suddenly, the atmosphere seemed charged and full of sexual energy.

“First of all, are you clean back there?” I asked. “Have you shit today? Have you farted a lot? Do you feel clean back there?  Do you care? Some guys go so far as giving themselves enemas before anal sex, but that’s not so important with condoms.”

“I already told you, no condoms,” Henry exclaimed.

“How do you feel about that, Darren?” I asked. “That’s a decision you both have to agree on.”

“It was my idea in the first place,” he replied. “No condoms, no-how. I trust Henry completely. He’s gonna be my husband and I’m gonna be his, ’til death do us part and all that.”

“I just don’t want death to be from untreated HIV or something,” I responded.

“Not gonna happen,” Henry chimed in. “I want to feel my boyfriend inside of me with nothing between us and to feel me inside of him.”

“Do you want or need to clean up first or go to the bathroom or anything?” I asked.

Looking at each other for a moment, both boys grinned and shook their heads. Moments before they’d been repulsed by the idea of getting up close and personal with the other’s shit, but it was different when it came to the excitement of losing their anal virginity.

“Do you have lubricant and gloves?” I asked.

“Gloves?” Henry asked. “What do we need gloves for?”

“Um, you’re gonna be sticking your fingers up your boyfriend’s ass,” I reminded them. “Unless you don’t mind getting shit on your fingers, you’ll wanna use gloves.”

“I don’t mind,” Darren replied to my surprise. “I’m not saying I’m into scat, but I want to be able to feel everything, without barriers.”

“I feel exactly the same,” Henry chimed in.

“Very well,” I replied, “Does one of you want to be the top or bottom the first time around?”

“If it’s okay with you, Henry, I’d like to be on the bottom,” Darren requested.

“That works for me,” Henry agreed, and then he began seriously making out with his boyfriend. Their foreplay was intense, and it was very, very hot. I was leaking furiously by the time by the time Henry started washing Darren’s dick, balls and perineum with his tongue. Yeah, it was very, very hot. Then to my surprise, he started licking around Darren’s asshole and circling it with the tip of his tongue. Darren’s moans of pleasure were loud enough that I feared he would wake Rob up – and maybe even the girls and Henry’s parents. I tried shushing them, but Darren only lowered the volume a slight amount.

When Henry inserted his tongue and started fucking Darren with it, Darren suddenly went rigid and splashed Henry with his spunk all over Henry’s chest and abdomen. Oh, my god!

I couldn’t stand it any longer as I said, “Sorry guys, I can’t wait.” I leaned back and stroked myself. It didn’t take long before my own spunk was flying through the air and splashing all over my face, chest and abdomen. The volume of spunk I’d been producing with my fun with Sammy had been increasing exponentially over the past couple of months, but that was nothing compared with my orgasm this time.

“Do you have some tissues I could use to clean up?” I asked.

“Um, could you maybe hold that thought, J.J.?” asked Henry. “The cum dripping down from your chin to your chest is way too sexy to wipe away. So, what do we do next?”

Still breathless, I responded, “Coat your fingers, with plenty of lube, then, insert your index finger into Darren’s hole and move it in and out until it’s comfortable for him. Reach inside until you find his prostate. You’ll know when you find it, cause there’s a bump you can feel, and Darren’s reaction will be kinda obvious. When he’s ready, insert a second and then a third finger and spread them to stretch his hole. Work his hole until he’s begging you for your dick.”

It took very little time for Darren to reach that point, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been practicing with something like a cucumber. However, out of concern that his practicing might have been with someone instead of something, I asked, “Have you been practicing, Darren?”

“I’ve been practicing with my hairbrush handle ever since Henry came out to me,” Darren explained.

“We should get some dildos,” Henry suggested with gusto.

“Definitely,” Darren replied.

I hoped the boys didn’t turn out to both be avid bottoms. It might be tough on them to find a way they could both enjoy sex if that were the case. That worry was quickly dispelled by Henry’s enthusiasm at topping his boyfriend. “So, any recommendations for our first time, J.J.?” He asked. “Front, back or ride ’em cowboy?”

It took every ounce of self-restraint to keep from laughing hysterically at that. I replied, “A lot of first timers like riding ’cause it gives more control to the bottom, but if Darren’s been practicing, it might not be important. From behind is said to be easier, but a lot of guys like to see their boyfriend’s face when fucking them.”

“What do you like to do, J.J.?” Henry asked.

“I like to ride,” I answered, “but that’s ’cause I’m an aggressive bottom. Most guys aren’t like that.”

“I’d like to watch Darren’s face when I fuck him, but how do we do that? How do the logistics work when I approach from the front, but his hole is behind?”

“What I’ve read, since I’ve never done it, is that, Darren, you need to lift your legs into the air, then Henry, you’ll place a pillow under his behind,” I suggested. “Get in position, lined up with Darren’s behind, and then, Darren, you need to drop your ankles onto Henry’s shoulders. The rest should come naturally, no pun intended.” It most certainly did. Even Darren came. What surprised me the most was when Henry turned around and ate out his boyfriend’s ass. I would’ve never thought to suggest that.

The sky was already starting to lighten, by the time I waited my turn to take a shower after the boys took one together. As I tiptoed into my own bedroom, Rob asked if I’d reminded his brother to leave the sliding glass door open. I had.