The ancient Greeks in their classic culture glorified magnificent manhood and their writers praised in prose and poetry that lives today the glories of love between man and youth who by example were guided to adulthood free of avarice, deceit and cowardice.
Brave young Greeks and their male lovers gladly fought and died side by side in defence of their state.
In today's world such true love still exists, although much of society unfortunately fails to recognize what is noble and pure in such love and instead blindly condemns all such homosexual love and expresses shock over vulgar public displays they fear will corrupt society.
Scott McBride attacks this blind prejudice of society in Young Butt Full, a sensitive novel of true love between a handsome, talented writer and the bright, eager young friend with whom he falls in love and for whom he strives to set an example much as did the ancient Greeks.
Although the story, its characters and its incidents are very much a part of today's world, the bond of friendship, love and the teacher-student relationship of the principal characters reflect the idealism that made the ancient Greek society widely admired.
While the author writes in detail of their sexual explorations, he deals equally importantly with the idealism that must be a part of any relationship between two people, be it man and woman or two men who find more than mere companionship and cheap thrills with one another. It is only through development of such character that a young man comes to understand that he can live a life of fulfillment, pleasure and value to the community and himself.
CHAPTER ONE
Dan Griffith first noticed the handsome young military cadet as he waited in the lounge to board the jumbo jet for a much needed vacation flight home to Tulsa. The kid was only about fifteen but built like a brick shithouse. Dan admired the hunky lad from across the crowded room at Kennedy International, grooving on his bulging crotch, but there was no way for him to change seats and move closer.
He beamed when, after taking his seat in the spacious plane, he looked up to see the cadet standing beside him, hesitant to crawl over his long legs to the seat next to him, the seat the gods had assigned to him, Dan thought later.
Dan grinned and pulled his legs back, and as the young man slipped past to take the window seat, he got a good view of the heavy hanging, clearly outlined cock beneath the tight khaki uniform.
The boy sat down and immediately began playing with the air conditioning control, the dials that operated the stereo, the foldup table and even the seat belt that he strapped snuggly around his middle in such a way as to even more accent the incredible bulge that seemed to strain under the thin material.
Soon the plane was airborne and the stewardess taking orders for cocktails. Dan chuckled with the stewardess as the boy tried to convince her that he was old enough for liquor, but she was firm and he had to settle for a soft drink.
When Dan's alloted two miniatures arrived, he opened one and poured half into his glass, then slipped the rest into the boy's Coke.
"Gee, thanks," he said, smiling invitingly. "I need that."
"Your first flight?" Dan asked, thinking the cadet might be nervous about flying.
"Hell no, I'm just going back to that goddamned military school," the boy answered as he took a sip of his drink.
"Not much fun, eh?" Dan sympathized.
"I hate it, I really do. But my old man insists. It's punisliment for what they caught meIt's punisliment because he hates me," the boy said.
"Sounds like you've had some problems." Dan's mouth was practically watering from just looking at the kid's almost-hidden cock and balls.
"Yeah," he answered.
"Girl trouble?"
"No, IThey caught me with . . . "
"Boy trouble?" Dan suggested softly.
The cadet, a handsome blond, turned furiously pink, but finally nodded slightly.
"It happens to everybody at one time or another," Dan said, trying to soothe the horny youngster.
"Yeah, but did you ever get caught?"
"No. I was lucky, I guess."
"Well, I wasn't. Ricky and I were-we were in the locker room playing around when the coach caught us. The sonofabitch turned us in to the principal, and he called my old man.
"Tough luck."
"Yeah, and when my old man heard about it the shit really hit the fan. Hell, he didn't have to explode like that and send me off to that damned military school. They know what I did so they watch me like a hawk."
"Sounds like you enjoyed what you were doing with Ricky."
"Hell, yes. Ricky and I-we did things together all the time."
"But you have to admit a locker room isn't the best place to get it on."
"Yeah, I guess you're right, but I was horny as hell, and he used to give the best blow-jobs I've ever had."
"So you just couldn't wait."
The cadet nodded.
Dan looked down and saw that the boy's ample basket was bulging even more under the confining trousers, the clear outline of his long cock seeming to stretch out a bit more and throb regularly.
"Looks like you're ready for relief right now."
"Just thinking about Ricky makes me horny. Know what I mean?"
"Of course."
The cadet's knee rubbed against Dan's leg suggestively, and the boy glanced furtively around. "I sure wish I could get a job on it now."
"But the stewardess will be around with lunch any minute," Dan said softly.
"Yeah, damn it." The boy rubbed his crotch familiarly, then tried to arrange his throbbing cock in its confining jail so it was more confortable.
"Hell, I gotta go to the head," he muttered finally. He got up and Dan saw that the bulge of his cock was even more pronounced as the boy slid past him, leaning in so he almost rubbed his prick against Dan's face, and walked up the aisle to the restrooms dividing the firstand. tourist-class cabins.
Dan watched as the boy opened the door, then glanced around invitingly, cupping his crotch, at Dan before slipping inside. His heart pounded as he pondered the possibility of following the boy. It was risky, but a risk he desperately wanted to take. He looked around and saw that all the stewardesses were busy in the small galley.
He slowly got to his feet and strolled casually up the aisle to the restrooms. He smiled as he reached the cubicle occupied by the boy-the door was closed but not locked. Gingerly he opened the door slightly and peered inside.
The cadet was sitting on the commode, waiting. A pleading look crossed his face as soon as he saw thatjt was Dan.
"Come in," he whispered plaintively.
Glancing around and seeing that the other passengers were paying little if any attention, Dan slipped inside the tiny cubicle with the kid and closed the door. He carefully locked it, then turned around as the cadet stood up.
His trousers were down around his ankles already and his throbbing cock stood straight out from the thatch of golden curls.
Dan reached out and gripped the heavy seven-inch weapon and slowly stroked it. The cadet moaned with delight as he did, then inched around so that Dan could sit down.
"Suck it," the boy pleaded, and Dan obligingly leaned forward and allowed just the pink tip of the kid's fresh-looking boy cock to slip between his lips. He caressed the hard head with his tongue, then let it glide into his throat as the boy began mouth-fucking slowly and then faster and faster.
The boy gripped Dan's head as he began to pummel his mouth with his feverish prick and he moaned in delight.
"Oh, that's so good, so good," he whispered. "Take it all, suck all of my cock in." He began frantically fucking and soon Dan could feel the thick weapon start to convulse.
"I'm cumming-I'm cumming. Take it!" the cadet cried out as his cock shuddered and spewed forth a heavy load of thick, sticky boyfuck cream.
Dan swallowed the little boy's cum frantically, for the copious jetting filled his mouth as it spurted from the throbbing cock.
Finally the last of the cum stream was swallowed and as the boy's cock began to soften, he slowly withdrew it. He reached for a towel and wiped it dry, then struggled to pull up his brief shorts and trousers.
Dan also stood, and the boy leaned forward and kissed him passionately on the mouth, tasting his own cock and still warm cum as he did.
"That was great," the cadet whispered. "Even better than Ricky." Then the youth turned to unlock the door. "I'll go first," he whispered. "Maybe you better stay here a minute or so."
Dan nodded and pressed himself against the wall so that he wouldn't be seen as the boy left. Immediately after, he locked the door again, then loosened his own trousers and pulled out his aching cock.
Dreaming of how it would feel to plow the cadet's firm young ass, he fondled his cock and brought it to a rapid, thundering climax, regretting that the kid hadn't wanted to suck him off too, He splashed his cream into the basin, then washed the evidence away.
Finally he opened the door and walked back to his seat.
The cadet was silent for some time as they ate lunch, but when the meal was over he leaned back to relax and they chatted casually for some time.
Finally, as the plane was nearing Tulsa, the boy pulled out a notebook and scribbled something on it. He handed the slip of paper to Dan.
"This is the number at school. I can get a weekend pass. Maybe we could get together. I love sex, and your hot mouth is the greatest," he whispered.
Dan took the paper and tucked it away. "I'll see what I can do. I've got a hot cock, too."
"Yeah, maybe I'll even let you stick it up my ass," the boy whispered, "if you'll let me plug yours."
"You've got a deal," Dan said and grinned.
The plane was coming in for a landing, so they had to break off their conversation. Dan knew he would have to find a way to get away from his friends and get together with the boy again.
Dan had no time to say more than a quick farewell to the cadet as they deplaned, for there was a crowd of friends plus reporters from television and the local newspapers eager for a few comments from Dan concerning his first, surprise best-selling novel and the upcoming Broadway adaptation.
Then came dinner with several close friends and, by the time he got back to his hotel, he was exhausted and fell asleep immediately.
He ate breakfast alone in the hotel coffee shop, enjoying the solitude as he read the morning paper's combined interview and review of his book.
Another William Faulkner-that is Daniel G. Griffith, the critic bubbled, and soon his great novel will live on the Broadway stage. It should be a big fat hit.. . .
Dan chuckled at that comment. Not all the critics back East had been so kind; yet it was high praise for the reviewer he remembered was not one to gushingly praise everything, even though he worked in a tradition-bound community that wanted its critics to like every little thing done by local artists, no matter how pedestrian the work might be.
The article boosted sales and insured a crowd of babbling middle-aged matrons who came to that afternoon's autograph party to sip punch and nibble on cookies, meet the author and giggle over the latest naughty joke told by the rotund little bookstore owner who was a delight even if Dan was soon pushed into agreeing to visit the owner's spiritualist friend who promised all manner of pleasures during his vacation. Could she have known about the cadet whose delicious cock he had sucked? Dan wondered.
Dan was exhausted from the babble of the autograph party and his visit to the spiritualist, yet he felt compelled to shower and attend a theater cast party since it was an event being held in his honor after the evening's community theater production.
The party was similar to many of the dull affairs he had attended in New York, overflowing with the same theatrical hangers-on even though the community theater did have a few retired professionals to bolster its reputation and add a touch of class to its productions. Everyone had read his book and some blushed over the very frank sexual passages, but all were eager to talk about the upcoming dramatic adaptation.
There was more than one not-so-subtle hint from various butcher-turned-actor types who dreamed of leaving amateur theater for the "real" theater, and just "knew" this or that role was based on his own experiences. More than one hinted that he was the character Dan had depicted. After all, hadn't they grown up together, and didn't exactly the same thing happen back in the winter of nineteen sixty or was it 'sixty one?'
Dan saw the young stud almost as soon as he entered the living room of the director's large home where the party was being held. The youngster was a standout-tall, lithe, almost painfully thin. His shiny bronzed hair, long and gracefully wavy, was a nice complement to the camelhair jacket worn with skin-tight bells and glistening loafers. His skin was fair, with a rosy hue in his still downy cheeks, and his blue eyes were wide-set and probing.
Introductions were long, as the little old ladies and would-be stars were quick to corner Dan. It was late before he and the boy finally met at the help-yourself bar in the kitchen.
Dan nodded and smiled, then waited while the boy fumbled with the ice tongs.
"There must be a better way to do it," the stud said quietly.
"Fingers are always handy," Dan said and chuckled.
The lad grinned, looked around impishly and quickly dipped a long tapered hand into the ice bucket, coming up with a fist full to fill his glass and Dan's as well.
Dan poured two Cokes, then with a sly wink and a glance around to see that they were not being observed, tipped a liquor bottle into the boy's glass, then into his own.
They strolled to a corner in the adjoining empty den and dropped into easy chairs. It had seemed so natural to meet so casually even though they had not formally met.
They chatted several moments before the young angel paused, then grinned.
"By the way, my name's Phil-actually it's Philip Michael Decker, but I'm only called that when Mom's really after me. Just call me Phil."
Dan smiled and raised his glass slightly.
"To Philip Michael Decker, better known as Phil, long life and success in whatever he desires." He took a quick sip. "And what DO you desire in life?"
Phil leaned back and thought about the question.
"I'm interested in just about everything concerned with the theater. Technical work backstage is the most fun, though. It's a challenge, expecially when the light and sound equipment we have at the theater starts acting up, which is just about every other night. We've managed to come up with some really groovy effects, some the director didn't even think we can do. That's what makes it so much fun."
Phil continued, asking a few questions about Dan's writing, but avoiding the repetitious, stale questions that Dan had faced all evening, as if he realized that Dan was tired of talking about the book and the upcoming dramatic adaptation.
The author soon found himself listening to a soliloquy of Phil's myriad interests. Dan had found over the years that all too many people, when talking of their own interests quickly turned into bores, but he was intrigued by the ease with which the boy discussed the theater, the amusing incidents that occurred in the few short seasons the stage had attracted him, his ambitions.
"I played a piano in a bar scene in a musical when I was eleven," Phil was saying. "Imagine, they had me dressed as a grownup. Of course I never turned my head toward the audience. Damn, was it great fun."
Dan found himself forgetting the fascinating creature before him was hardly more than a boy, someone to be treated as such and certainly not the object of more than casual interest. For the conversation was that of an adult.
Granted, there were signs of yet-to-mature ideas, of sudden outbursts of impatience with older companions not accustomed to such talent in one so young. It must be hell to be mediocre and forty and then have to work with a genius of sixteen, especially one so abrupt with his criticism, Dan mused.
Such a young man could go far, or he could drown in his own talent if not properly guided, Dan thought.
From the way Phil casually mentioned his parents' willingness to let him chart his own course, it was apparent to Dan that they realized the lad's talents in the theater, but did not know fully how to cope with his brasliness-or were content to let him plow roughshot over others because of his outstanding ability. What he and so many other exceptional young talents needed, Dan realized, was a guiding hand from an older person not hindered by family ties, someone to set a good example and thus help the youth blossom without the faults that easily could become impossible to correct, even more impossible for others to bear.
Phil needed someone who could guide him just as Stephen had done for him, Dan mused. He had been a stumbling youth trying to write the ail-American novel at eighteen when he met Steve. They had become inseparable for nearly three years as Dan grew to maturity, gradually changing so that Steve's favorite term of endearment-Little One-had gradually become outmoded and dropped.
Now Stephen was a guiding light for another young man, this time a hopeful dancer-actor studying at the small college where Stephen as a professor had become acquainted with Dan. At the same time Stephen now was the proud father of a nineteen-month-old son, who doubtless would benefit greatly from the understanding his father could provide," an understanding that a boy needs to receive from a friend as much as a father. As Dan knew, a boy can talk with a friend of many things he is hesitant to discuss with his father, no matter how understanding the father tries to be.
Now this Little One, as Dan mentally christened Phil, was leaning back in his chair, his long thin hands aflutter as he related another backstage anecdote. His right leg was casually across his left knee, and as Dan glanced down he saw an obvious bulge of the boy's cock almost tauntingly, temptingly on display.
The great interest in the arts, the carefully tousled hair dipping over his forehead, the expertly selected clothing, that flutter and too obvious bulge-this was an innocent youngster?
Dan shuddered as thoughts raced through his head. His mouth was dry as he tried to think of something else, anything else but what the indications measured up to as he studied the boy.
For innocent or not, Philip Michael Decker, as the lad had so impishly rattled off his name, was still little more than a boy, not someone for a responsible adult to meddle with, no matter how great the desire, how noble the motive to help might be.
Philip Michael-even the name was somewhat theatrical, Dan reflected. No need for him to dream up some stage name like so many young hopefuls did when they flocked to New York. Phil would not have to train himself to answer to such a name as Garth or Damon or Greg or Jere or any of the other so obviously fake names the would-be stars adopted.
Dan returned his gaze to Phil, and mentally made a decision. Here was a person to be known, to be enjoyed, even if sex was never involved. Should they be seen together in public during his vacation, Little One would rate envious glances from others who admired hansome young men, yet Dan knew the boy could be trusted not to offend the unknowing either by action or comment.
It seemed impossible that Phil was not quite sexually experienced, or at least aware of the shadowy world of what Dan laughingly called the "theatrical sex." Yet Dan immediately realized that Phil was un-like the common hustlers or queens who had not the sense or the tact to remain calm in a potentially dangerous situation. Those common queens were only interested in drinking and fucking, and were quick to sneer at the more pleasurable moments friends could spend at the theater, a concert, even a leisurely stroll through a park.
And, should Phil shun a sexual involvement, there could be much more in such a friendship, and Dan was eager enough to know this fascinating young man better to forego sex should Phil reject it.
It was quite logical that he befriend the young man during his free moments of his vacation, Dan reflected. For perhaps later he could open doors to places of interest to the lad, help him gain knowledge as he pursued what could be a successful career in some phase of technical theater.
And it was quite possible . . . Dan glanced down at that ample box once more. The definite bulge of a rather large cock and heavy balls, so noticeable yet apparently so taken for granted, remained tantalizingly obvious.
All this was a longing, mere speculation, Dan reminded himself. They might never meet again. He would soon have to return to New York and he knew that youngsters soon forget friends if they are long separated.
Phil seemed to sense the end of the party and finally lapsed into silence.
"Can I give you a lift home?" Dan asked when it was obvious that most others were leaving the party.
The youngster smiled and nodded. They talked little on the drive through the dark, nearly deserted streets after Phil had laughed when
Dan admitted that the car the youth had admired was a rental car. Each was wrapped up in his own thoughts, yet it was a comfortable, satisfying silence as if they had known each other for years rather than a brief evening.
As they pulled to a stop in front of the house Phil pointed out, Dan turned and, with a hand resting almost unnoticed on the lad's knee, softly commented, "It's been a pleasant evening. Will I see you again? Maybe we can take in a movie, or have dinner and talk theater some more."
Little One nodded, then furrowed his brow. "I'll be tied up at school and the theater all this week, but how about Sunday? Maybe you'd like to come over and we could listen to records, then go out for something to eat."
Dan agreed, and Little One silently got out and almost skipped up the sidewalk to the porch, but it was not an escape, for he turned at the steps and waved a friendly good-bye.
Little One's youthful exuberance made Dan feel suddenly surprisingly old, even though it had been less than ten years since he too had bubbled with similar enthusiasm, his: for a career in writing. He chuckled as he wondered if Stephen--likewise had felt like an old man even though at that time he had been no older than Dan's present twenty-six years. Dan had been content to turn to newspaper features for some while, but through the encouragement of Stephen he had continued to struggle for time for serious fiction writing even when faced with rejection slip after rejection slip when his novel was ignored for more than a year before it was accepted by one of the smaller publishing houses which had waged an active campaign that turned it into a success.
In a way Dan felt much younger again, for the brief visit with Phil had been so pleasant. He had but two weeks of vacation at the very most; there could be little harm in carefully nurturing the friendship. Perhaps before Sunday he could investigate Little One's background. The shadowy world had a gossipy grapevine from which no one's affairs were ever completely secret. If Phil had been seen with anyone or given any sign of perferring the company of boys and men to women, there doubtless would be some knowledge of it, Dan knew.
On the way back to the hotel Dan drove down Main Street for a bite to eat. The crowds chased at last from the bars had taken the parking spaces near the lone all-night cafe downtown, and he had to park more than a block away.
He waited on the corner for the light to change, even though there was no traffic, for he knew the local police were prompt in warning visiting jaywalkers that, "This ain't New York, we obey the law down here." Dan glanced across the street and saw a shadowed figure lounging against a building on the opposite corner-the corner long known as a pickup point.
As he crossed the street Dan saw that the figure was a young man barely in his twenties, dressed in the uniform of the young gay on the prowl-tight, revealing slacks and bright shirt. The boy unblinkingly returned Dan's glance, then nodded ever so slightly, as if in invitation to stop and chat. Dan grinned and paused, as he knew the boy had predicted he would.
They talked for a moment, and Dan invited him to have coffee.
" During the cafe . . conversation Dan decided that the boy was safe enough, he was going to college and hadn't found anybody he was interested in at the bars. He was quite willing, even eager to come to Dan's hotel room. And, he added, he knew the night desk clerk so there would be no questions asked about his going to the room so late.
Dan paid the bill and they walked back to the car, then drove the few blocks to the hotel. Even though he had taken someone to his room on many occasions, Dan still was nervous as they entered the lobby. The young man, who introduced himself as Nick, waved to the desk clerk and stepped into the elevator.
.The boy began shedding clothing as soon as he walked into Dan's room, and was nude by the time he reached the bed. He sprawled on it and watched Dan with anticipation as he--likewise stripped.
Dan's ample cock was hard by the time he dropped his shorts and stretched out beside the husky young man who had admitted to having been a football player in high school. Even his cock was a husky eight inches of fat, hard meat that jumped for joy as Dan's tongue and lips encircled it.
The boy quickly turned so that he could suck in Dan's throbbing weapon and they were content for several minutes to tantalize each other's bone-hard meat.
As Dan's hands caressed the wide but firm buns and then explored the dark crevice between them, Nick moaned and began thrashing about wildly. Finally he pulled away and turned so that Dan's glistening cock was nudging his buns as it sought the entrance to his steaming asshole. When it did, Nick thrust back and the cock quickly glided up the dark tunnel of love as the boy moaned with desire.
They rolled over so the boy was on his stomach and Dan sprawled on his back and began thrusting his rampaging cock deep into the hot tight fuck tunnel.
Aroused as he was from the visit with Phil, it didn't take Dan long to build up a heavy head of steam. He reared up so that he could slam his cock deep into the receptive asshole, his thighs pounding the boy's buns with each frantic thrust.
"Yes, yes, ram your cock in hard," Nick cried as Dan's thrusts grew even rougher. "Oh, God, it's great, shove it to me!"
Dan gasped as he felt his juices rising, and almost viciously pounding the willing ass, he cried out and fired a volley of hot manfuck cream deep in the young man's fluttering asshole.
"Oh, yes! Yes! Give it all to me, baby, give it all to me!" Nick cried out as he felt the cum explosion, and Nick's own cum spurted out under him, soaking into Dan's comfortable bed.
Finally Dan collapsed on the boy's sweating back, gasping for breath.
They lay content for several minutes as Dan's cock slowly softened and finally slid from the cum-filled shit tunnel. At last the boy struggled from beneath Dan and padded off to the bathroom. He soon returned with a damp facecloth and sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully rinsed away the shit-streaked stains of their lovemaking from Dan's still heavy cock.
"That's some pile driver," the boy chuckled. "I haven't had such a good fuck in months. Nobody around here seems to know anything but sucking cock, and that just doesn't turn me on much."
"Your ass was made for fucking," Dan said, returning the compliment.
"I'd love to stay here and take another pounding, but class comes all too early tomorrow," Nick said as he got up and started to dress.
"Can I give you a lift?"
"No, thanks. I've got my car near the cafe. It's a nice night to walk back. From the way you worked me over, you need your rest," he said and grinned.
Nick leaned over and kissed Dan's limp cock, and quickly turned to leave. "See you around. Maybe we can have another romp in the roose," he said as he let himself out of the room.
After the boy had left and Dan lay quietly smoking a cigarette, there was a dull ache in his stomach. It was more of longing rather than of sexual need, since fucking Nick had drained him of any sexual thoughts. But once more the vision of
Little One rose in Dan's mind. That sort of person he could love, and it would be something more than a moment of passion.
They had more in common than mere sexual desire. Possibly a reciprocal affection would grow. Dan was so tired of the occasional tricks he picked up from some dingy bar or shadowy corner-those moments of frantic fucking or cocksucking, of false love with someone he didn't even know.
He desired love as well as sex, and love was more than a pickup. It was sharing interests, knowing one another's most intimate thoughts, desires, dis--likes. There were the simple joys that came with personal jokes, little gifts that meant nothing to anybody else, perhaps even a subtle, fond glance-all of this in addition to whatever physical passion the lovers might share.
Dan had hardly met Phil, yet already he longed for a close friendship, an opportuniy to open doors for the lad who was so eager to learn. Was this wrong? he mused. Little One was old enough to know his own mind; if he wanted more than friendship, it would be his decision. Dan would offer more, but Phil would have to make the decision.
CHAPTER TWO
Dan slept late and was dreaming of frantically fucking a handsome young stud when he was awakened by a call from Larry Donovan, an old college friend now the darling of the local daytime housewives' television interview program.
"Thought I better check to see if you'd come back to the world of the living; you had quite a time at the party last night, I understand," Larry chirped.
The laughter hurt Dan's sleepy brain, even though he had not had enough liquor to have a hangover.
" A little birdie told me all about your evening, and who all you found most interesting."
"I really-"
"Don't let it worry you," Larry continued. "Why not come on out and have some coffee" before the show. You DO remember you're going to titillate all my little old ladies at noon with daring stories of gay New York life?"
Dan struggled up to look at the travel alarm clock.
"Good God," he swore when he saw it was nearly eleven. "When does this clambake get started?"
"We go on the air at 12:30, but I like to have my guests at the station by noon so we can have a chat about the questions I'll ask. It keeps the butterflies away and I get a better idea of what makes interesting chatter."
Dan mumbled good-bye and struggled out of bed. While shaving he contemplated the catty comments Donovan had made. Obviously some friend of the television personality had been present at the part. Of course he and Phil had left together, and this was the conservative Middle West, not an uncaring, cosmopolitan New York. Was a bit of friendship to be so misconstrued?
Dan realized that if he were to pursue a friendship without causing talk even among the known gay community, which apparently had as good a communication system as in any city, he would have to be extremely careful.
Still yawning, Dan dressed and drove to the TV station. He hadn't seen Donovan for three or four years, when the entertainer was still an announcer on the college FM station. By now, Larry had moved up in the world, for the book dealer had bubbled delightedly about having lined up the interview on so popular a program. But then he didn't know that Larry often had borrowed Dan's bedroom for a quick trick in the past and would be happy to return the favor by promoting his book.
"Welcome back to no man's land," Larry boomed as he greeted Dan in the station lobby. "How's it feel to be the toast of the town?" he added, leading the way into the dark, chilled studio. "Don't worry, as soon as those lights come on it'll soon get like an oven. So fill me in on all your activities, at least those you care to talk about. Mustn't titillate my ladies TOO much," he said and giggled.
"I don't really know what you could be talking about," Dan said in mock serious tones.
"Come, come, Danny boy. Don't play so coy. My spy network is actually quite good. I know all about last night, and whom you took home. Aren't you the least bit ashamed about robbing the cradle?"
"I-" Dan looked around the dimly lighted studio uneasily.
"Don't worry. Nobody'll be in for another twenty minutes or so. They're doing the news in another studio. How do I know about you? Easy, I have to know what's happening. It's the best way to keep people from talking too much about me. Can't have that, or my little old ladies would-well, you know."
Donovan had not changed at all, Dan realized. Perhaps he was even more outspoken now than when he had led the midnight revels of the tight-knit college gay group.
"Okay," Dan muttered, "so you apparently know a bit about my activities, but not everything. I took young Phil directly home, and NOTHING at all happened, with him. I found him to be an intriguing young conversationalist. I hardly even thought about-"
"But you did think about it. Tell me true," Larry said and laughed.
"Okay, okay. But, like I said, he's an interesting youngster to talk with, even if that's all it ever amounts to. Since your spy system is so great, perhaps you can save me some time and trouble. What do YOU know about Phil?"
"Not a great deal, really. He's got quite a reputation at the theater as a tech man, and of course he does everything at school in the way of theater backstage work."
"That's not what I was talking about," Dan said, a smile playing at the edge of his lips.
"Really, that's about all I know about him. Naturally there has been speculation. Or should that be unnaturally? Nobody's been in his pants as far as I know, and undoubtedly around theater groups somebody would try. Of course, that doesn't mean he's not available, maybe just waiting for the right moment, the right person."
"Meaning me?" , "Perhaps, if chicken is what you want. Me, I don't like to rob the cradle. The college kiddies are fine with me, they already know what it's all about."
"I don't usually chase anybody that young either," Dan said. "But damn it, Larry, last night I completely forgot I was talking to a mere seventeen-year-old boy. Even talk with him? I bet he knows more about some technical things than your own engineers. How he's managed to pick up so much dope on so many things at his age is beyond me. He knows a thousand things more about the theater than I do, and that's my business."
"Well, if that's what you want go after it, dear," Donovan said and chuckled. "Just be careful. Some of these young kids would just love you to take their cherry, but then go crying to mania and get. you in trouble. We had such a deal here at the station. Lost a good announcer 'cause he just had to try out some hunky high school trick. The kid used to come up to the station when he had the late night radio shift. They'd sit around and talk and play records and then Bruce took him home several times.
"Finally one evening they went home by way of the river bottoms. From what Bruce said the next morning the kid really knew how to suck cock and fuck ass. He took on Bruce like an old pro, sucking him off and then fucking the shit out of him. Something backfired, though.. . family was waiting up or something, and all hell broke loose. The next night the kid's father paid Bruce a visit and told him to get out of town pronto or he'd call in the police. Bruce ran. He was lucky, though, 'cause he got a good job right away in New Orleans and now he's chasing all the seafood that comes to town."
"Well," Dan mused, "I'm quite content for my relationship with Phil to remain just on a friendly basis. I'm not that hard up for-"
"That's what they all say. Then the minute they can get the kid alone they're ramming their hard fat dicks up his tight little ass or down-his throat."
Once again Dan shook his head. "Not me. Fun is fun, but when it comes to a choice between fun and trouble, then my reputation comes first. There are enough fish in the pond that I don't have to grab the one that may get me hooked and in trouble."
Their conversation broke off abruptly when the door opened and the camera crew came in and began flipping on the Kleig lights. In the few moments now remaining before air time, Larry quickly quizzed Dan and outlined the questions he was--likely to ask.
The show went along quite smoothly, with light-hearted give and take as the two old friends discussed the work of Dan. Most of it was by now old hat for Dan, but Donovan had a quick wit that made the conversation bubble along.
Finally Larry looked over at Dan with a sparkle in his eye and posed another question.
"We've talked about your novel, about your play and a lot of other things, but I think my viewers would like to know a little more about you, Dan. We know you worked here and went to
New York after getting your degree, but what's your life like now? And the question everybody always wants to know, are wedding bells about ready to peal?"
"Life's a lot of fun in New York, even if everything does seem to cost a king's ransom," Dan said. "I think your viewers would find my life rather dull. I've been working as, a publisher's representative and writing at night. It doesn't leave me much time for running around. As for the last question, no wedding bells in sight. When I find the right person, yes. Right now I'm having a good time playing the gay blade about town."
Larry was getting a frantic "wrap it up" signal from one of the crew and, with a quick farewell to his viewers, he concluded the program.
"Well, it went quite nicely. Thanks for coming out," Larry said as the overhead lights winked off. The crew quickly left.
"You dirty dog," Dan growled, but without real anger.
"Thought that would turn you on," Larry said. "Always like to throw one curve at a guest if I can. Keeps 'em on their toes.. You handled it beautifully, my dear."
"Yeah, but what if I had suddenly lisped something like T prefer big handsome men like you, Larry the Fairy?' "
"Then both our gooses would've been cooked. And speaking of cooking, how about some lunch?"
"I could use something to eat. I'm beginning to growl."
"I suppose you'll be off to see your little buddy again this evening," Larry said as he drove out of the station parking lot.
"We're supposed to get together Sunday afternoon, he's tied up before that. I'm going over to his house."
"My, isn't that a cozy arrangement! Right in his own bedroom you're gonna seduce him, already."
"Damn it, Larry, I wish you'd lay off. You make it sould so dirty. I meant it when I said I like him as a friend, not just something young and new to fuck."
"But, damn it, man, admit you're not AGAINST taking him to bed and plowing him."
"Only if it works out. I'm not going to force him to do anything. If the time and place are right and he's interested, okay, I'll take him to bed."
"Don't worry, you'll probably get him to bed. Phil can be quite friendly, I understand. Listen to an old auntie's advice, luv. Something I didn't mention at the station, he's temperamental as hell.--likely as not he'll befriend you as long as you can do something for him, then drop you like a worn out rubber. He's got quite a reputation for using people to get what he wants."
"I don't believe that. He doesn't strike me as the sort to-" v "Oh, I think he'd be clever, You'll never know he's using you, especially if you're out to tango with him and aren't paying real close attention to what's really happening. But let me warn you, don't get too involved, for your own sake."
Not wanting to hear any more similar comments, Dan quickly changed the subject to less personal things.
After a leisurely lunch he returned to the hotel and found a phone message from a Keith Martin, a name that rang no bells. When he got to his room he dialed the number given in the message.
"Southwest Military Academy, Cadet Martin speaking, sir!"
"This is Dan Griffith. I have a note from a Keith Martin."
"Yes, how are you? I'm the guy you met on the plane," the quickly familiar voice answered.
"How are you? And how did you know to call here?" Dan said.
"I saw the picture and stories in the paper," Keith explained. "I just checked a couple of hotels until I found you. Initiative and all that crap they try to teach us here, you know."
Dan laughed, and they talked pleasantly for a couple of moments.
"Listen," Keith said finally, his voice suddenly fertive. "I get off duty in a few minutes.. Can I come down? I'm horny as hell again."
"Sure, why not."
Keith quickly wrapped up the conversation and promised to b e at the hotel within an hour.
True to his word he was knocking at the door almost exactly sixty minutes later. Dan had taken a shower and was resting. As the knock was heard, his cock stirred in anticipation. He grabbed up a robe and tossed it on as he went to the door, just in case it might be somebody else.
Standing in the doorway, grinning widely, was the blond stud. As soon as the door closed behind him, he quickly shucked off his uniform and turned to Dan. His seven-inch cock was standing at full attention, and Dan's own weapon poked its tip from beneath his robe in reply.
Keith stepped closer and they embraced. The boy's kisses were not too experienced, but he was eager to learn from Dan. His hands slid down Dan's back to cup the author's firm buns, and his fingers explored between the dark crevice.--likewise Dan was massaging Keith's trim body and his finger tips had discovered the hidden anal opening and sent shivers of desire through the cadet's handsome body.
"The bed," Dan finally gasped, and they strode over to the large bed and fell onto it, again in a tight clinch. Finally Dan broke away from the cadet's sweet lips and slowly kissed his way down over the boy's bronzed, hairless chest, tantalizing each wine red rosette, then across his stomach and finally to the golden thatch in which the cock rose proudly. He tongued the tip of the cock, then slid down and kissed the down-covered sack that hung heavily beneath it.
Keith gasped as the balls were sucked onto Dan's hot mouth and caressed with his tongue.
Dan's exploring tongue moved lower, and Keith lifted and spread his legs to allow the author free entry to his almost virginal asshole.
Keith moaned in delight as the tongue at last reached the winking entry to his tunnel of desire and pressed against the funky gate.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!" Keith moaned as Dan's tongue probed and lubricated the puckered shit hole.
His tongue still massaging the spasming hole, Dan moved around and finally aimed his rigid cock at the glistening target. He pressed gently against the iron-clad gate.
"Easy, easy, it's the first time," Keith moaned as the big broad cockhead pressed more firmly against his anus.
Slowly the tip slipped into the dark fuck tunnel, then paused as Dan allowed the boy to get used to the big invader.
When Keith nodded, Dan resumed the invasion and slowly his spit-wet cock slid into the moist, hot shit tunnel until his pubic hair ground against the boy's straining buns.
"Oh, God, that feels great," Keith moaned as he felt the cock buried fully in his virginal hole. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
Dan obliged, slowly witlidrawing his long hard cock almost completely, then driving it deep again. Each time he pulled it out, he shoved it back a little faster and harder until he was pounding the tight boyfuck canal furiously.
Keith thrashed about the bed in ecstasy, and his anal muscles gripped Dan's cock tightly. The added pressure plus the frantic pace he was pounding the ass soon summoned the author's heavy load of cum juices.
Dan shoved his big hard cock in as deeply as he could, then cried aloud as he splashed his hot sticky cum offering deep into the tunnel of churned-shit and desire.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Keith cried as he felt Dan's cock throbbing and spitting out the heavy manfuck cream.
Gasping for breath, and his cock softening at last, Dan slowly withdrew it and fell over on his back.
They lay quietly for a moment, then Keith got up and slid between Dan's legs. His tongue started to explore, and Dan obligingly lifted his legs so the cadet could reach his own winking cock hole.
Lubricating it fully, Keith finally lifted up and aimed his aching seven-inch pile driver prick at the gleaming hole and shoved it forward.
Even though he had often enjoyed a heavy cock invading his inner being, Dan gasped as the boy's big dick rushed past the protesting opening and slid to the hilt with one surge.
Immediately Keith began the frantic motions of fucking, corkscrewing and bucking as if it were to be his last fuck and he must make the most of it.
After the initial shock of the painful entry, Dan relaxed and enjoyed the pounding of his tunnel and the expression of tormented desire on the young blond's straining face.
He reached up and pulled the boy's head down so that their lips could meet. As they kissed passionately, he felt Keith's prick pound even faster and then, with a shudder, explode the youngster's hot cum deep within his bowels.
They fell over on their sides, Keith's ample cock still buried deep in Dan's boycum-filled asshole, and continued to kiss and caress as they relaxed after the frantic double action.
Finally Keith's softened prick slipped out, and he rolled over on his back.
"God, that was wild!! ' the cadet whispered. "Ricky and me, all we ever did was suck cock, but this was the greatest!"
"The way you pounded my ass, I thought you'd been doing it for years. You really learned to fuck in a hurry."
"I have a good instructor," Keith replied. "I bet I have a hell of a time marching in the morning; my asshole feels like a tfuck was rammed up in it."
"By morning you'll want another invasion, I bet," Dan said and chuckled.
"Yeah, but how? There ain't a chance at school."
"Nobody else--likes to suck cock or plant a prick in a hot ass?"
"Maybe, but they watch me so closely I don't dare try anything."
"I'm sure you can find a way, if you're hard up enough."
"Yeah, I guess so. I sure hate to leave this, though," he said, fondling Dan's limp weapon. "You really put the cock to a guy."
"Practice makes perfect," Dan said and chuckled.
"I'll have to get away again. I've got a hunch my dick won't be happy with a quick suck or hand job any more."
"I'll be here for another week," Dan replied. "You know the number."
At last they got up and showered, and then reluctantly Keith dressed and prepared to leave. Dan also dressed, for he had a dinner date with an old college friend and his family.
He promised Keith to share another sex interlude later in the week if the cadet could get away from school.
On Sunday, Dan found himself strangely nervous as he parked in front of Phil's house. It would be the first time to meet the lad's parents. Just like meeting the father of the bride, he mused as he strode up the walk and knocked on the door.
Phil answered and held the door open for Dan to enter. The house was strangely quiet; if his parents were really entertaining, it was a quiet party, Dan thought.
But Little One explained that the dinner party had been put off because of illness, and that his parents were out for the day. Then he lead the way back to his bedroom, decorated in stark charcoal shades and brightened by a gleaming white fuck carpet. Dan stopped short at the door.
The room was a masterpiece of decoration, with every item carefully selected to compliment the stark black and white color scheme.
Several framed photographs of past theater productions adorned one wall, and a large bulletin board contained several clippings of Little One's various activities, along with certificates from various contests he had entered.
"How do you like it?" Phil asked, somewhat hesitantly.
"It's great. Who decorated it?"
"It was my idea. Mother did most of the work, although of course Dad and I painted the walls. You can't imagine how dull it was when we moved here-pink walls and a "godawful carpet. I've always wanted a black and white room, and this one was large enough to do it and not feel pressed in."
Dan slowly walked into the room, then studied the clippings more carefully. As he was reading of Little One's theatrical accomplisliments, including one story that labeled him 'Mr. Do It All,' Phil opened a cabinet and pulled out several records.
"These are some special ones I thought you might enjoy," he said. "A friend sent this one to me from London, its not available over here."
The music began and Dan immediately recognized the selections from a hit Broadway production, although there was more feeling than he remembered.
"This is the London company. There's really no comparison, is there?" Phil asked.
The afternoon passed quickly, even if both eventually lasped into silence as they listened to the music. As it had been on the ride home, the silence was one of friendship.
Finally Phil glanced at his watch, then at Dan.
"Shall we eat? It's nearly six, and I only nibbled at lunch."
Dan grinned. "I'd like a big juicy steak, one that's really cooked and doesn't cost a fortune like they do back east."
So they went to a quiet restaurant noted for its excellent food and reasonable prices. It was early for the dinner crowd, and they were led to a comfortable table in one corner of the dining room.
Dan followed Phil's recommendation when they ordered, and they chatted pleasantly through the soup and salad, then lapsed into silence as they tackled the steaks, just as tender as Dan had desired.
"I agree with what you said on that television interview this week," Little One said, without any comment leading up to it.
"Which comment?" Dan asked, puzzled by his remark. "I've been on several shows, and have been asked for my opinion on just about every thing from theatrical criticism to, believe it or not, birth control."
"On Larry Donovan's show," Phil explained. "We have a TV set backstage at the theater at school, and I watched there. It was quite good."
Dan acknowledged the praise.
"What specifically did you agree with? After all, it was a full thirty minutes of gabbing."
"About what you said about.. . the idea of so many girls being hangers-on who aren't really interested in a person," Phil said. Then he suddenly turned pink.
At the same time Dan's heart thudded. Of all the comments, Phil would bring THAT one up. And after the sly comments Larry had made!
"Aren't you a bit young to be concerned with such things?" Dan asked.
Phil shook his head emphatically.
"I don't think I'll get married. I like to be around boys and men. They don't seem to be so silly all the time. Don't you find that true?"
"I didn't say I was against women per se, just those who seem to hang around and try to attach themselves to people in the news or who seem to be making a name for themselves. like I also said, some day the right girl will come along and-"
Dan paused as Phil shook his head. "I don't think so. I think you're too much an idealist to ever find a girl who . . . someone you'll find to be more than just a sexual release."
"Hey now! This is getting a little deep for-"
"You know what I mean. You're just not the type to settle down and get married. I think it probably would interfere With your work. Would that be fair to either you or to whomever you married? I think some people just should never get married. Especially creative people. Marriage would only affect their work adversely."
Dan grinned widely. "What do you suggest then, mass fornication?"
His comment made Little One blush again, but Phil was undaunted.
"It may sound outlandish, but why not? Isn't the theater known for its freedom? Would this be so far different from what's going on, anyway, only not out in the open."
"You sound quite experienced," Dan said softly.
"Not really, but I see a lot backstage. Even in a community theater we're considered a little different by the 'regular' people out in the audience, sort of queer ducks, if you know what I mean."
It was Dan's turn to blush at the turn of the conversation. Little One's comment could be taken innocently or as a subtle hint.
"There are a lot of young people in the theater whose parents definitely would not approve of your ideas, young man," Dan said with sternness that failed to cover the twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, I don't mean to say that our theater, or a lot of others, is a hotbed of sex. But it is wild in its own little way. Just about everything does on, or has at one time or another," Phil said, a somewhat cryptic note slipping into his voice.
Dan contemplated Phil's comments as he dabbled with his spicy hot apple pie. There had been subtle hints in various directions. Phil was either quite naive and covering up for it, or he already fully understood the situation and was being as outspoken as he was on most other subjects.
Either way, it was an interesting revelation. Dan decided that Little One could not be completely naive. He might not realize Dan's desires, but he certainly wasn't totally unaware of the gay sexual interests in many theater devotees.
He was innately too intelligent to have missed this, and as Larry mentioned, doubtless he had been propositioned, perhaps even seduced. Their silence continued as they left the restaurant and drove back to Phil's house. Once there, instead of almost instantly bounding out of the car, Phil sat quietly as the vehicle rolled to a halt.
"This has been a great day," he said softly, looking over at Dan. "Thanks a lot."
"The pleasure is mutual. It's been a most enlightening visit, even if your mother might be shocked if she knew some of the things that-"
"She gave up being shocked a long time ago, I'm afraid," Phil said, smiling impishly. "But just to please her, I go out with a girl now and then. like I said, they're always so dumb. All they seem to want to talk about is getting married and having babies. That's why I say creative people shouldn't get married."
Dan remained silent. Finally Little One looked up again. "When shall I see you again? I'm tied up with school and the theater so much right now, and today has been so much fun."
"Well," Dan mused, "next weekend I think I'm going to drive down to Dallas. I thought I'd go see if Six Flags Over Texas is really as fine an amusement park as everybody who has been there says. Think you could go? I'd love to have you along."
"That would be super. Let me check and I'll call you. Or you could come by the theater tomorrow night. We could have coffee after the show. Okay?"
"Fine."
Phil vaulted out of the car and bounded up the walk. Then, with his familiar little wave, he disappeared inside.
CHAPTER THREE
Perhaps it was weariness over the afternoon-long trip to Dallas coupled with the spring showers that had made the narrow ribbon of pavement slick, or it could be anticipation over the next day's tour of the amusement park and then a visit to a widely known community theater-whatever the cause it was past midnight and both Dan and Phil remained awake in the motel room.
D,an could hear Little One's breathing, smooth yet occasionally breaking rhythm as the boy tossed restlessly. The rain continued to patter against the window near the twin beds and the music from the FM radio Dan had brought complimented the quiet, peaceful atmosphere.
Dan threw back his sheet, sat up, lighted a cigarette and for a moment sat on the edge of his bed, quietly smoking and staring across the narrow gorge to where Phil sprawled, the covers tumbled as he had tossed and turned.
"Dan?"
The voice was but a whisper. "Can't sleep either?"
"I don't know what it is. I feel awake, yet I'm still tired and I should be sleepy."
Dan sat down on the edge of Little One's bed.
"I know. It's anticipation, I guess. You'll have something great to see tomorrow, I promise, and I've not even been to the park. The theater should be something to explore, too. It's brand new and is supposed to be quite different."
"But why can't I sleep tonight?" It was more a drowsy comment than a question. Phil tossed again, the sheet falling away from his long, slender legs as he rolled over on his stomach, batted the pillow into a ball and pulled it under his head.
Without reply, Dan leaned forward, his hands reaching down and out. As they encircled one of Phil's sinewy legs and gently began to massage, the startled Phil glanced around for a moment, then relaxed and fell back.
Methodically, with practiced and gentle hands, Dan kneaded Phil's limbs, moving down to relieve the tenseness in his calves, then back up, sometimes squeezing almost roughly, at others barely moving over the down-covered legs.
Dan reached to the night table and pulled a small bottle of alcohol from his overnight bag-protection from occasional aches in a trick knee-and opened the bottle.
Little One gasped momentarily as the cool liquid splashed on his legs, but .quickly relaxed. Dan's breathing became heavier as he felt the tender flesh yielding under his fingers and a deep yearning began to manifest itself, although still tempered by uncertainty. Should he continue? dare he make the move he had dreamed of? could he endure the all too possible rejection?
Little One sprawled in a human X beside Dan, yielding completely to the gentle massage. His breathing was soft and more relaxed. The lad's T-shirt was rumpled and pulled away from his brief shorts, revealing a bit of the pale flesh of his back.
Dan could continue no longer kneading only Phil's lower limbs. His heart pounding and his fingers still gentle although shaking slightly, Dan reached upward beneath the shirt and stroked Little One's back, then edging up to the shoulders.
The only response was a soft gasp as the first chilling touch of Dan's fingers spread across the boy's back. Dan carefully worked the shirt up to Phil's shoulders, then finally started to pull it over Little One's head.
Phil silently helped remove the garment, then fell back on the pillow.
Dan breathed a sigh of relief and, his heart still pounding, reached down to the back which was now entirely at this pleasure. The rain continued to patter against the window, the music waltzed pleasantly on as he quietly soothed the lad's tired muscles.
Questions pounded through Dan's head as he silently worked at his labor of love, caressing the yielding flesh of the lad for whom he had come to hold so much affection.
Dare he continue? How far would Phil allow him to go before the realization of Dan's goal dawned on him? Then rejection? Or would he receive the act as a true sign of Dan's love, and give himself to Dan in turn.
As if in answer, Little One moved slightly, apparently to put beneath the kneading fingers a certain area of his side, and it gave Dan his chance. Gently but firmly his hands rolled Little One over on his back.
Dan looked intently into Phil's face, but the lad's eyes remained all but closed and he had a gentle smile on his face. His arms were flung out and he completely relaxed, surrendering himself to the caressing tenderness.
Even in the dim light Dan could see that his massaging of Little One's upper thighs, with occasional brushes over his shorts, was causing a definite reaction even though the youth's face remained composed, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly ajar.
Dan's heart pounded wildly. Dare he go all the way? Would Phil awaken, reject his efforts angrily, perhaps even later expose him to the unsuspecting and trusting parents?
Or did Phil also want affection? Did he share the closeness that Dan felt. Perhaps Phil didn't fully realize or understand his feelings, but it was obvious he was old enough to enjoy such urges.
Dan feared such a move might shatter all that had been built up between the two. Inexperience and fear go hand and hand, and Dan doubted that Little One had ever experienced love other than paternal. Despite Larry Donovan's chatter, Phil didn't seem the type the gossiper hinted.
Once more Dan gazed lovingly at Philip, over the lithe body, the gently heaving stomach with but a hint of dark down rising in an inverted V from beneath the shorts, the tousle-haired head that had so pleasantly snuggled against Dan's shoulder when the lad fell asleep during the long drive.
One hand had been massaging Phil's thigh. Gently, stealthily it moved upward, silently coming to rest poised lightly over the one bit of flesh hidden from his enraptured gaze.
Dan held his breath, fearing and almost expecting a sudden, angered reaction. A moment passed, seemingly an hour. There was no outburst. Another minute passed, Still no protest.
Then, delightfully, he felt a gentle stirring beneath his hand. Phil wanted him as he wanted the boy, Dan realized. Or at least he had similar urges and was not afraid to experiment.
OhGod, Dan silently prayed, let it be desire, not just passing curiosity, and let it be satisfying and beautiful for him. A tear welled up in his eyes. Then he gently leaned over and his lips brushed against Little One's.
Slowly Dan reached down and removed the last barrier, then his lips moved down over Little One's chest. As his lips and tongue caressed the boy's crimson rosette, Dan felt Little One's hands touch his head, then caress him and slowly pull his head up.
Again their lips touched, and Dan felt Phil's tongue issue a tentative invitation to explore. His arms slipped around the boy and held him close. His hands slipped down and gently moved over the boy's back, and then down to cup his firm young buns.
Phil threw himself against Dan, and Dan could feel the boy's cock, now swollen and stiff, prodding his groin. Dan's lips slipped from the boy's, and he nuzzled Phil's ear, delighted that the action sent a new thrill through the boy's responsive body.
Soon he again slipped down, his lips brushing over the neck, the chest and finally reaching the center of interest, the throbbing eight-inch rod with his heavy ball sack hanging below.
Dan's fingers caressed the downy sack as he kissed the tip of the cock and watched it jump for joy. Then slowly he guided the heavy, throbbing cock down his throat and began to make love to it. Phil thrust his dick upward and at the same time gripped Dan's head to force it down fully on the heavy boy fuck weapon.
As he sucked the kid's beautiful cock, Dan's hand continued to massage the boy's balls and to explore between the youth's legs. Phil obligingly spread his legs apart so that the fingers could slip down and tantalize the warm anal darkness.
Then, at last, the fingers touched the opening to his tight, unexplored tunnel of desire and caressed the sensitive folds of skin that was his asshole.
Phil moaned with desire and thrust his cock upward again, burying it deep within Dan's pleasuring throat.
Dan continued to massage the opening to the boy's virginal ass as he wrapped his tongue around the cock and frantically sucked it to bring forth the boy's hot creamy juices.
Little One was gasping at the doubleedged attack on his sensitive sexual core, and with a keening moan slammed his cock deep and shot the first blast of his boyfuck juices. Dan continued to such his delicious cock rapidly, and at the same time gently drove his finger past the entrance of the asshole and toward the supersensitive prostate gland. As he did, Phil gasped and fired another volley of hot sticky boy cum deep into Dan's eager cock-squeezing throat. And then another shot of cum until at last his heavy nuts were drained.
Dan continued to explore the tight shit tunnel with one finger as he sucked on the boy's cock, which now began to soften slightly. Phil continued to run his long fingers through Dan's hair and caress his ears and even down to feel his lips as they wrapped themselves around his cock.
When the cock had softened completely and Dan lay with his head on the boy's soft, flat stomach, Phil slowly sat up and slipped around on the bed so that his lips were inches away from Dan's still rigid cock. Then he leaned forward and took the cock he was fondling into his mouth.
Phil gagged once or twice as he sucked on it and then tried to guide it deep into his throat, and he refused to quit until it was buried deep in his throat and he was caressing the full nine inches with his tongue.
Dan lay back and moaned with delight, at the same time the one finger continuing to massage deep within Phil's tunnel of love and the other hand caressing the boy's tousled hair and downy cheek.
Phil broke away and moved up until his lips touched Dan's, then crushed against them as his tongue snaked deep into the older man's mouth and made love to the tongue he found there.
Although he had to stretch to reach, Dan's finger remained buried in Phil's tight asshole, sending shivers through the boy's body as it tantalized his prostate.
They rolled together on the bed until Phil was on his back and Dan sprawled over his body.
Dan got to his knees and, after spreading hand cream over his throbbing cock, slowly lifted the boy's legs until they rested on his shoulders. Then he leaned over and kissed Phil and at the same time guided his cock toward the winking boyfuck hole where his finger had been exploring and greasing with more of the cream.
Phil flinched momentarily as the tip of the heavy cock touched the opening of his ass, then he gripped Dan's head and crushed his lips with his own as his enormous cockhead slipped painfully into the virginal shit opening.
Dan slowly pushed his prick deeper, pausing now and again as he felt Little One flinch with pain. Their lips continued to press together.
At last he felt the downy hairs around the boy's ass brushing against his pubic patch and knew his cock was buried completely inside the child's asshole.
His hands caressed Little One's thighs and then up to hold the boy's head as he kissed deeply. Phil responded fully, and even tightened his anal muscles around the throbbing cock.
Dan began slowly to witlidraw his cock, then surge it forward again, and each time Phil moaned or became even more passionate with his kisses.
Hie anal muscles gripped his cock tightly and Dan could feel them contracting to provide an even firmer grip on his throbbing boyfuck rod.
He stepped up the pace of his fucking and when there was no protest he began long-dicking the kid, slamming his cock in deep and even corkscrewing slightly.
Soon Dan could feel his own love juices began to rise, and with now frantic thrusting motions he buried his cock fully into the tight, moist boyfuck tunnel and, with a gasp, his cum exploded. His boyfuck cream splashed forth deep within Phil's spasming asshole and the boy responded by gripping him close and sucking his tongue deep within his mouth.
When he had spent himself completely, Dan gently rolled over on his side, pulling Little One with him. His cock was still buried, and their lips still glued in warm embrace, although their passion was subsiding.
At last his cock slid from the cum-filled shit tunnel, and Dan lead Phil to the bathroom where they showered together. Again they kissed and caressed and fondled.
After toweling each other dry, they returned to the rumpled bed. Dan rested on his back, with Little One cradled in his arm, the tousle of damp hair close to his cheek.
Phil soon slept, but Dan still could not, although he felt completely relaxed and at peace. The joy of the preceding moments, as each had expressed most intimately his affection, still buoyed him.
The radio was still offering quiet classics as Dan gradually awakened. Little One remained, nestled against him, his head burrowed against his shoulder and one arm carelessly flung over Dan's chest.
Dan smiled gently at the sleeping boy, then cautiously reached out for a cigarette from the pack on the night stand. As Dan moved, Phil roused slightly, but dozed off again.
For several minutes Dan lay quietly smoking and listening to the radio and thinking of the moments of love they had experienced just a few hours before. Sadness washed over him as he thought of the future. This idyll could but be of short duration, for soon he must return to New York. He would be busy through the summer with the play. At best he had only another week, and with Little One's myriad activities it was doubtful that much time would be available for them to spend alone together.
If only Little One were a bit older, not tied to family and school; then he could come to New York, Dan mused. If his interest in theater was not just a mere boyhood imagine, New York would be heaven for the boy. Of course, there was one possibility, summer was fast approaching.
As if he knew someone were thinking of him, Phil opened his eyes and looked up at Dan.
"Hi," he whispered.
Dan smiled at the youthful face. "Hi, yourself. Sleep well?"
Little One nodded, then stretched luxuriously. "Don't usually when I'm away from home, but it was wonderful."
Dan reached for another cigarette and offered one to Phil. The lad grinned as he refused.
"You're gonna corrupt me yet, mixing me drinks like you do, sucking my cock and fucking my ass, offering me cigarettes and--"
His voice trailed off and for a moment there was only the soft strains of a Sibelius symphony from the radio.
Having smoked but half the cigarette, Dan ground it out and then pulled the coverlet up over the two of them. Idly his hand held the top of the sheet, his fingers relaxing as they dropped close to Little One's own slender hand.
Phil slowly reached over and took Dan's hand in his. He toyed with the ring on one finger, then noticed the design and held it up so he could better see the frowning theatrical mask in the center.
"That the way you feel this morning?" he asked. "Um?"
"Sad-or is that the way the ring's made?"
Dan smiled. The ring was frowning, but' that certainly was not the way he felt.
"It can smile. The face swivels and it should be smiling this morning. Very definitely."
Phil slipped the ring from Dan's finger, toyed with the faces which were cast back to back on a rotating bit of silver, then with the smile looking out, slipped the ring back. He suddenly chuckled. "I now pronounce you man and-"
"Man?"
They both laughed, but Dan could see that Little One also was blushing. Dan lay almost without breathing as the silence returned and Phil continued to hold his hand. He waited for Phil to say something, anything that would indicate his feeling about the moments of ecstasy he had experienced. Could it have been a moment made possible only because his young friend was half drugged by sleepiness after the long trip?
"Last night was, I--? " Little One stammered as he sought the right words. His voice was barely audible, his whisper blending into the lush string music.
"You really don't have to talk about it if it embarrasses you," Dan replied, clutching the hand that held his own.
"It's not that. I-I just don't know how to begin."
"like Alice in Wonderland, why not start at the beginning?"
"It all seems almost like a dream. I don't even know if I remember what was real and what really was a dream."
"I'm glad you said dream. You could have found it to be a nightmare."
Little One looked up. "It did happen. Your cock, it wasn't just my imagination."
Dan shook his head and smiled reassuringly. "It was no dream."
"I'm glad."
Phil's voice was soft, but the comment was made with no hesitancy. At the same time he squeezed Dan's hand gently.
Again there was silence, as Little One continued to lie in the crook of Dan's arm, holding the hand and toying with the ring.
"It was my first time," he said at last.
"I thought so. I wasn't even certain if . . . some of your comments last Sunday made me wonder, but it could have been just talk. If you had protested at all I was going to stop at once, and hope you would forgive me."
"I'm glad you didn't," Phil said, snuggling closer. "It all seemed . . . so perfect and natural. I had never even kissed anyone. Oh, of course mom and grandmother and that sort of thing, but that doesn't really count."
"It counts, but it's a different kind of-of affection."
There was a pause, and then Little One looked up at Dan again. "What would you have done if-if I'd protested? If I hadn't wanted you to go ahead?"
"Stopped immediately," Dan's answer was quick and sure. "like I said, and I would have apologized for offending and hoped you would be forgiving."
He pulled Little One's hand to his lips and softly kissed it. "You see, I was quite content to be plain, simple friends. In fact, I would have been angry forever if anything I did offended you.
"I don't think it'll go to your head if I say this-you're far beyond your age in many ways. I value your friendship too much to ever do anything that might upset you. Naturally I'm glad you didn't protest. And, of course, we've barely scratched the surface of what friendship our relationship could be."
Phil was quiet for a moment as well.
"It seems too strange, so different, and still so natural. I-I never thought of going to bed with . . . of such a relationship with a man."
Dan smiled. Little One was skirting the more sexual approach to the subject completely.
"Man has loved man for as long as history records," he said. "You've heard the term 'platonic love,' haven't you? Ever wonder about how it originated? With Plato, one of the greatest Greek philosophers. I could quote scads of poetry he wrote of love for another man. Dozens of others through the ages also have written similar lines.
"Of course, in its truest sense, platonic love is love without sex, although it's generally conceded that Plato also experienced sexual love with other men. I think that if there is true love, there is desire to please one another and sex naturally is a way of pleasure. It's up to the individuals involved to make it more than just sex."
Dan looked down at Little One once more, squeezed the hand tight and chuckled. "But enough talk for this early in the morning."
"Somehow I never thought of us as . . . it just seemed the thing to do last night."
"Love, or friendship-call it what you may-often isn't something you really think about. It just develops, sometimes rapidly, sometimes more gradually. True friendship is made up of many things-similar interests, a desire just to be together, willingness to do things for the other without thought of something in return.
"We haven't known each other very long, according to the calendar at least, but I think you'll agree that we have many similar interests, that we like to be together, that even without thinking we've done things for each other." Isn't that true friendship?
"And last night. It was another way of expressing this friendship, this love for another in a most personal, mutually satisfying way. You said it was your first sexual experience. I am happy-perhaps selfishly so-that I was the first. Sex can be a beautiful expression of friendship, or it can be sordid and dirty. You're old enough, I think, to decide for yourself what last night was."
"It was all.. . so new to me."
Dan smiled. "Sex can take many forms. I won't give you the five-dollar clinical lecture, but I'm sure you've read those plain wrapper books or had locker room bull sessions. Sex can be mere relief of physical desires, or it can be a joyous, intimate way of expressing friendship . . . love. It's entirely what the individual makes of it."
Determinedly Phil grasped Dan's hand tight and silently raised it to his lips.
"For last night," he whispered as he kissed the smiling mask. "For our friendship-our love." He then kissed the back of Dan's hand.
Their hands slipped under the coverlet and Dan's slowly, carefully encircled Little One's waist, pulling the nude youth close. When their lips met it was no longer an act of hesitant tutor and unknowing pupil. The kiss was of love, no passion, and from it by tacit understanding passion was not forthcoming.
Instead, Little One snuggled down beside Dan, his lips barely inches away from Dan's, his lithe body gently nestled close under the cover. For long moments they were content to be in each other's arms, occasionally exchanging a caress or an understanding glance, but no more.
They were caught in the spell of the dimly lighted room, the moody music, but most of all by their newly discovered love.
"What are we going to do?" Little One finally said, somewhat matter-of-factly, his tone breaking the spell. "When?" Dan said, looking down at Phil, not quite comprehending.
"I mean, you'll be going back to New York, I'll be stuck-"
Dan's feelings were mixed with sadness over the thought of separation, yet buoyed by the realization that Little One cared enough to be concerned and to voice this feeling.
"I've already been confronted with that problem," Dan said. "I woke up thinking there should be some solution. There must!"
"When do you have to leave?" A wistful tone crept into Phil's voice, and Dan had to smile, the expression was so poignantly made.
"As soon as possible, unfortunately. Actually I was supposed to be back this weekend, but I put it off."
He kissed Phil on the cheek. "Because of this trip. They'll just have to cry a bit longer for me in New York."
Little One grinned.
"I'll absolutely have to be there by the end of this week, though," Dan said and sighed. "There's still so much to be done on the play, and of course I want it to go right. Much as I'd love to stay right here for a couple of weeks, I don't think I can explain away opening night flaws by inserting a notice in the program to the effect that 'certain faults may be attributed to an invigorating lost weekend the author spent with a divine young man.' Somehow even in New York I don't think that would go over so big, especially with the prim and proper critics."
"When is the show to open?" Phil said.
"We begin work on it in June, and it's scheduled to open around Labor Day, if all goes well. It's gonna be a long hot summer with little time to get away from New York even for a weekend. I'm dreading that. Summer Festival hoopla or not, the city's no honeymoon in July and August-especially if I have no bride."
He hugged Little One, who grinned.
"Would there be time for a-a bride?" Phil whispered, gazing up at Dan with an intensely pleading look. "Perhaps I could-"
"Come to New York? That would be wonderful. Of course there would be time for you, and you'd have a perfect opportunity to watch a Broadway show put together."
He paused, a sudden frown clouding his face.
"But what about your summer plans here? What'll they do at the Little Theater, for instance?"
"They'll do without me," Phil said. "They'd have to find someone next year when I go to college anyway. And like you say, not everybody gets a chance to be backstage when a New York show's rehearsed."
Dan smiled at the determination and speed in which Phil changed an entire summer's plans in a moment, but another pang of anxiety gripped him. Phil's parents also would have to approve such a trip. A weekend jaunt was one thing, but an entire summer in New ""York-that would be another matter. .
"What about your parents?" Dan said, deciding the problem should not be postponed.
"I think they'll say okay, as long as they know I'll be with you. They like you a lot, I can tell. If they didn't I wouldn't have been able to come along on this weekend. They're strict on that sort of thing."
He squeezed Dan's hand and again impishly pecked him on the cheek.
"Of course, they don't know about anything like this going on." He looked up, suddenly serious. "Can we tell anyone? Or should this be our little secret?"
Dan clutched Little One's hand tight, even though he smiled.
"I think it best we don't-at least right now. And certainly not to your parents. I know they wouldn't understand."
Little One nodded, then grinned again. "It makes it all the more fun. I love secrets."
"Little devil."
Again they joined in quiet laughter. Then Dan glanced at his watch and whistled softly.
"It's time, my Little One, that we starting humping if we're to see the park, and I think under the circumstances we better. How could you explain the fact we didn't have time to see it for all the fun we had in bed?"
CHAPTER FOUR
It was a perfect day for visiting Six Flags Over Texas, unofficially known as Texas' answer to Disneyland. Even though it was almost noon before Dan and Phil had parked and entered the grounds, the temperature still comfortable for strolling through the various sections that dwelt entertainingly with Texas history.
They studied a map, picking out attractions of special interest. Dan had been warned it would be impossible to do the whole part in a single day, and their day already was half spent in the leisurely chat at the hotel and the breakfast that followed.
Glancing at his watch, Dan turned to Phil who was staring at the ski lift car passing overhead-one of a dozen on the ride that gave a bird's eye view of the entire park.
"That's one ride I certainly don't want to miss," Phil said as the car vanished over a clump of frees.
"Okay, but we've got five minutes to find the Crazy Horse Saloon-they've got a show there that should be fun."
They made their way over various paths to the early day Texas section of the park and the saloon. They arrived late, and the show was beginning as they squeezed through the swinging doors and took the last two seats at the back of the room.
The show attraction was an old-time variety program such as might have been found in any better western saloon, and Phil was soon engrossed in the effects used, especially the sound and lighting.
"Not bad, really," he whispered. "But what they desperately need is a follow spot. They could do a lot more that way."
Dan nodded, smiling to himself. Little One hadn't been in the park half an hour and already was finding ways to improve it.
The show ended in a rousing burst of applause, and Dan, Phil and the rest of the audience spilled out onto the street as the sound of gunfire erupted. Dan stiffened for a moment, then relaxed as he heard the announcement of the "shoot out."
They walked down the street to where a crowd had gathered in front of a replica of Judge Roy Bean's territorial court house, complete with old timers spitting and whittling on the front porch. On the wide street were the participants in one of the famed judge's court sessions, Dan and Phil watched as the "trial" ended with a shoot out that left the bad guys sprawled on the street, shot "dead" in their attempt to escape the lawmen.
The crowd broke up with a burst of applause, and Dan and Phil strolled down the street and around one of the many corners-Six Flags seemed to be made of corners as one age in history backed up against another just around the corner, Dan noted.
Little One was deeply interested in various technical effects in use throughout the park. They passed the gate into the waiting line for the flume ride. As in most of the more popular rides, the waiting area was a snaking line of people doubling back and forth a dozen times.
They paused, then joined the line.
"They must spend thousands every week on this air conditioning setup." Phil said as they leaned against the log post railing. Above were ducts spewing forth cold air over the waiting patrons, even though much of the cooling was dissipated through the open sides of the palm-thatched shed.
"You'd think they would devise some way of holding the air in," the youth mused as he studied the system while the line gradually inched closer to the ride.
"But it wouldn't be as pleasant on a day like this if there were walls and-"
"There must be a better way than walls. Something like air jets or the like. It'd be interesting to work on a solution." .
The ride consisted of a canal through which hundreds of gallons of water flowed, propelling hollowed logs carrying passengers through a wooded area to the finale in which they plunged into a pond like a roller coaster.
A youthful attendant helped Dan into the log first, as another youth---likewise apparently a college student working in the part for the summersteadied the bobbing craft. After Dan sat down he turned and held up his hand for Phil, who hopped nimbly into the craft and sat down in the narrow space between Dan's legs which were braced against the front of the narrow log.
Another pair was helped in the back section, and the attendant-who had, Dan noticed, cast covetous looks at Little One while standing with bronzed foot holding the boat against the current-released the boat which started bobbing forward.
Little One leaned back and Dan slipped his arms loosely around his companion, He could smell the clean, pungent odor of Little One's hair as the lad's head rested on his shoulder.
"Careful or somebodyll have us arrested for lustful and lewd appearance or something," Dan whispered and Phil giggled.
The log flowed meirily through a quiet wooded area that seemed miles from the rest of the park even though just a few feet away the clatter of gunfire and frantic whistle of a locomotive indicated an Old West train was being robbed.
At last the log swept around a sharp bend and floated toward a steep incline, and as it was dragged upward like a roller coaster car, Little One was pressed even closer against Dan, and they both laughed as Dan growled "Watch it!"
Little One clutched at his friend's arm to brace himself. Then suddenly they were plummeting down and splashing into a lake at the bottom of the slide. Spray billowed over the log, dampening their shirts and faces and adding to the thrill.
Both were still laughing at the sudden plunge as the log floated around the final curve and glided to a stop at the pier where the same attendant extended a bronzed foot to stop the craft. He gave his hand to Little One as the youth slipped on the wet bottom of the log, and Dan glowered as the attendant held on slightly longer than necessary.
The boy merely grinned and turned to help another patron into the log.
Dan prided himself on keeping trim, walking much of the time around the Village on pleasant mornings, but he was no match for Phil when the youth hiked toward the outdoor restaurant overlooking a lagoon where half naked college types in war paint paddled the park "tenderfeet" through the wild west.
They admired the bodies as they ate, and Dan felt his heavy cock growing stiff as he watched.
After lunch they rode other rides, all coming under the careful scrutiny of Little One's technically oriented eye. The afternoon and evening progressed pleasantly, with an almost running commentary of both good and bad opinions from Phil.
They ate supper in the park, and both were exhausted by the time they finally returned to the motel.
"Let's take a shower, okay?" Phil said as he entered the cool, dark room. "I'm sticky and sweaty and probably smell like a horse."
"More like a horsy little boy," Dan muttered, but Phil was already in the bathroom and turning on the shower, so he didn't hear.
Dan paused, wondering if he should shower with Little One, The boy answered his question by bouncing back into the room, now stark naked and unashamed.
"Come on, slow po"ke, I want you to soap my back," he said, scratching his heavy hanging balls unconcerned by what the action might do to Dan's sexual responses.
Dan grinned at the change in the youth, and quickly stripped.
Phil carefully held the shower stall door open for Dan and he stepped into the water and immediately shrieked.
"Damn it, Phil, you little devil!"
Phil roared with laughter; the water was icy cold.
Dan swiftly adjusted the faucets, and then Phil joined him. They leisurely washed, enjoying the refreshing stream of warm and then cool water.
After they had dried themselves, Phil grabbed Dan's hand and, with a little smile, lead him toward the bed.
"Come to bed, teacher, I have an idea you have a new lesson in love for me," he whispered.
Dan's cock twitched and began to swell, and he noticed that Phil's ample weapon--likewise was beginning to stiffen.
They fell onto the bed, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss, their hands gripping one another tightly. Dan felt Phil's thick, hard eight-inch cock prodding at his stomach, and his own nine-inch ramrod brushing against the boy.
Phil reached down and gripped Dan's cock and massaged it, then lifted the heavy ball sack that hung below.
"Did I really have that inside me last night? Wow!"
"All nine inches, luv." "And tonight?" "Whatever you wish."
Phil kissed Dan again, then inched downward, his lips tantalizing the firm flesh of his neck and chest. After teasing each of the ruby rosettes, he glided down and his lips brushed against the pink tip of Dan's cock.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes," Dan moaned as he felt the tender tongue and lips caressing the tip of his throbbing cock. Slowly Phil guided the long cock into his throat and wrapped his tongue around it. Dan gently thrust his hips upward and the cock slid deep into Little One's inexperienced but willing throat. The boy gagged once, but didn't come off the cock.
His hands reached under Dan's straining hips and he gripped the firm buns tightly, the tips of his fingers spreading them and two of them tantalizing the hidden, quivering entry to his tunnel of love.
As he continued to gain experience and proficiency in sucking Dan's cock, Phil's fingers pressed against the fuck tunnel and one slipped inside.
Dan shuddered with delight and his cock swelled even more. Then the tip of the finger probed deeper, and the second tip squeezed inside, too. Dan spread his legs and lifted them and without a work of direction Little One slipped from the glistening cock, and after kissing the hairy balls, inched down, his tongue lovingly sliding between the buns.
He quickly removed the fingers and the tongue slipped into the quivering asshole in their place.
Dan moaned with delight as he felt the tongue and lips making love to his asshole. He reached down and gripped Little One's throbbing cock and slowly tugged until the boy moved around so his cock was near Dan's lips.
His cock slipped down Dan's throat while the boy continued to tongue the winking asshole and with his hands massaged the straining buns.
Soon Little One's thick eight-inch cock was glistening with Dan's saliva and Dan's dark, musky shit hole was gleaming with Phil's warm tonguing.
Little One slowly pulled his delicious dick away from Dan's passionate throat and turned on the bed so he could slide it between Dan's uplifted legs.
He inched forward until the tip of his cock brushed against the winking anal opening, then he moved slightly and the heavy tip slid inside.
"Oh, yes, Phil," Dan whispered as the cock pushed his fuck opening wide, then continued slowly but steadily further.-
"It's in, it's all the way in! Give it to me!" Dan cried as the cock buried itself deep in his ass.
Slowly Phil withdrew until only the tip of his dick was gripped by the firm muscles, then he drove it in deep again. Dan moaned with delight and Phil repeated the move. With the third thrust he twisted his body to provide a corkscrew motion.
"Faster, faster, slam your dick into me fast and hard and you'll love it as much as I do!" Dan cried as the boy's cock continued to plow deep into him.
Little One obliged, and soon was pounding the ass furiously.
"I-I'm cuming! I'm cuming!" he cried suddenly and slammed his cock hard and deep into the asshole, then gasping, filled it with his ample load of hot sticky boyfuck juices.
"Oh, yes, that's lovely. I can feel it filling me up," Dan whispered as the kid's cock continued to throb and jet forth ropes of hot sticky boycum.
He gripped the boy's sweaty buns and pulled them so the cock was ground fully into his ass, the boy's wiry pubic hair rasping against his buns. As the last surge of his cock eeked out another few drops of love juice, Phil leaned over and gently kissed Dan.
They rolled over on their sides, the boy's cock still buried deep in Dan's cummy asshole and still almost as hard as when it had first invaded.
For several moments they kissed passionately as Phil fondled Dan's aching cock. His own cock was still hard, and soon he began to gently thrust once more and several minutes later again gasped as he fired a second shot of fuck cream.
At the same instant Dan's cock, so tenderly massaged by Phil's hand and inspired by the throbbing dick buried in his asshole, shuddered and splashed a copious allowance of mancum that splashed across their stomachs and chests.
Again Phil kissed Dan, and then as his cock slowly slid from the filled-up asshole, he leaned down and began to kiss the juice-stained chest, licking up the love offering as he did. When Phil was finished, Dan--likewise recovered the cream on the boy's chest and heaving stomach.
Then they lay back in one another's arms, gently kissing and holding hands until they fell asleep.
Phil curled up in Dan's arms and slept like a baby, as did Dan, but the young stud woke first, and after kissing the sleeping cock of his new lover, gently lifted Dan's legs and kissed the winking asshole once again. His cock quickly swelled, and after lubricating it with saliva he slipped it into the unresisting tunnel of desire and gently fucked long and deep.
As Phil gasped and fired another volley deep into Dan's ass, he looked down and saw Dan grinning at him.
"That's two you owe me, now."
"What?" Phil gasped, still coming down from the peak of passion he had just experienced.
"You've plowed me three times-I've only enjoyed your hot little fuck hole once."
Phil grinned. "It's just waiting for you."
He withdrew his dripping dick from Dan's shit hole and leaned down to kiss the throbbing cock before him, getting it all slick with spit. Then Dan pulled him forward and the boy quickly realized what was wanted. Slowly he sat down, guiding the ramrod to his shitter, then sinking down on it.
Phil leaned forward to kiss Dan as he felt the cock being thrust upward. He shoved down and the man-size weapon was buried completely in his tender boy's asshole.
They continued to kiss and caress as Dan thrust his heavy dick up, Phil pressed down and soon Dan cried out as his cockhead exploded deep within Little One's tight shit tunnel, jetting out gallons of mancum.
Then they showered together, again bringing both cocks to a raging hard-on which they took turns relieving with their passionate tongues while their fingers buried themselves in one another's quivering asses.
"My God, you're going to wear me out," Dan gasped as they finally stepped from the shower and began to dress.
"I love it so, and I'm afraid I may not get it again."
"You can always have it, as long as you wish," Dan whispered.
They kissed again, but it was late and both cocks were exhausted, so they soon broke away and quickly packed.
Once more as they drove back to Tulsa, along a deserted stretch of highway, Phil leaned over and pulled Dan's quickly hardening cock from his trousers and, as Dan tried to keep the car on the highway, passionately sucked him dry.
It was dark as the car at last rolled to a halt in front of Phil's home. Phil roused up and stretched, but made no move to leave.
"Oh, Dan," he said, his hand reaching over to grasp Dan's tightly. "It was such a fantastic weekend. I don't want it to end."
"Neither do I, luv, but I guess it has to."
"See you tomorrow?"
"What about school?"
Phil squeezed Dan's hand tighter.
"Why not pick me up at school? We could just wander for a while, then eat and go to the theater. You can even sit in the light booth with me, if you like."
Dan grinned. Phil was offering to let him enter the most hallowed of hallowed places-his light booth.
"It's a deal. Now, if you're gonna be worth a damn in class tomorrow, you better hit the hay."
"I sure as hell won't be able to do anything in gym class-not the way you've made me exercise this weekend," Phil laughed. "What about me?"
Phil grinned, hesitated, then pulled Dan close and kissed him tenderly. "For everything."
Then brushing away a tear, he picked up his overnight bag and fled from the car and up the sidewalk. But as usual, he paused at the steps for that jaunty farewell wave.
As Dan drove back to his hotel, he passes the same hustler he had entertained earlier, but he drove past the corner without even seeing the youth with the inviting bedroom eyes.
Buying cock was no longer of interest to him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dan paced impatiently in the waiting lounge near the gate where Phil's plane was expected. It was late. The splatter of a spring storm on the large plate glass windows was testimony that, even though man'singenuity had progressed from a few yards of flight to hundreds of miles in minutes, more work was needed to combat the elements.
Checking with the harried attendant and getting another, later arrival time, Dan slumped into an uncomfortable molded chair and reached for another cigarette.
You'd think I was a nervous bridegroom, he chided himself as he stared the third time or so at a crumpled newspaper. He forced himself to become engrossed in a review of a second-rate movie and failed to see the sleek jet roll slowly to a stop outside the rain-streaked windows.
When the public address system finally announced the arrival and, at almost the same moment the door from the walkway to the plane burst open with the first passengers, Dan got to his feet and glanced over the faces of the emerging passengers. He couldn't locate Little One.
He was about to walk to the information desk to see if possibly another plane was expected when at last he saw Phil coming through the door, struggling with a large clothing bag and a big smile on his face as he spotted Dan.
Phil almost dropped the clothes as he threw his arms around Dan, hugging him tightly.
"God, it's good to see you again," Little One cried, oblivious of Dan's blush and curious glances from others in the lounge.
"I was just about to give up on-"
"We couldn't find this damned clothes bag," Phil explained, "so we had to wait until the crowd thinned out. They don't have those planes laid out very well for getting people and their baggage on and off without a lot of damned commotion. I'd think somebody would work on that."
Dan smiled and took the packages from Little One and led the way to where his other luggage had been delivered from the plane's luggage compartment.
"We'll splurge and take a cab, if we can find one," Dan said as they reached the curb. By a combination of luck and Dan's expert waving, they soon were resting in the back seat of a cab splashing toward Manhattan. There still was some lightning, but the rain was letting up and by the time the car passed through the tunnel into Manhattan the rain had quit. Dan directed the cab to his Village apartment and soon they were unpacking Phil's belongings.
"You've got a groovy apartment," Phil said. "I thought everybody either lived in a tenement or a penthouse here, not just a regular old apartment."
"You'll think this is the penthouse when the rent comes due," Dan said and chuckled. "I was lucky to get this for what I pay, especially with air conditioning and a separate bedroom that's big enough to turn around in."
It didn't take long for Phil to dump his clothing into the drawers and hang his slacks up. Then he was pacing about the living room, glancing out the large window into the night, puttering with knick-knacks on the mantle, toying with the keys of Dan's typewriter.
Dan smiled as he watched Little One prowl.
"I guess it's time to begin the Grand Tour. You're too anxious to wait until tomorrow. Have any preferences, or will you put yourself at the mercy of an old New Yorker?"
"I'd rather have a handsome young New Yorker," Phil said impishly, at the same time hugging Dan and pecking him on the cheek. "There's so much I want to see I don't know where to begin. I'll let you be my guide."
"Fine, but you better bring your raincoat just in case the storm turns around. I don't want to press my luck in finding a cab twice on the same night."
Dan led the way three blocks to the subway, listening with amusement to Phil's chatter about activities at home, including protests from the theater about his being gone for the summer.
"I wouldn't miss this for anything," he said. His hand reached out and gripped his companion's. "I hope you don't get tired of my being here. If I ever do anything wrong or-I hope you'll tell me right off. You don't know how much this summer means to me, being here in New York . . . and being with you," he added softly, all the time clutching Dan's hand tightly.
"If I'd know you wanted to hold hands we could have stayed at home where nobody would bother us," Dan said to break the tense atmosphere.
Little One blushed, and pulled back.
"I-I'm sorry, but what I said, I meant every word of it. You don't know how much all this means to me. I don't want anything to go wrong. Sometimes at home I seem to fuck up. I just don't want that to happen here."
"I'll never grow tired of your company, Phil, believe me," Dan said, throwing his arm around the lad's shoulder and, throwing caution to the wind, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. "I'm glad you realize you do seem to get into difficult situations. Mind if I sound terribly like those sickening TV commercials and give some advice? No, you don't have bad breath, but I think your tendency to be over critical is a problem. I know you're often quite right, but somehow an adult doesn't like to be told he's done something wrong, expecially if it comes from somebody he might consider a punk kid. Get what I'm aiming at?"
"I think so," Phil said and nodded reflectively. "I'd never thought of it that way, but I guess you're right. I get so damned mad sometimes, seeing people do things wrong and knowing they're doing it wrong that I just can't seem-"
"It's not the criticism so much, Phil, as it is the way you've gone about it, implying the person doesn't know anything at all. After all, if someone has a,job, he must know a little about it, even if not everything. See what I mean?"
"Next time I fly off the handle, just give me a swift kick, will you?" Phil grinned. "But watch out for my butt, it may be sore if you've gone exploring again."
"You may have an awfully sore rear for a while, for I certainly hope to go exploring.! '
Dan led the way down the littered stairs to the subway station and they caught the first train and quickly arrived at the grimy, teeming Times Square station. With a gleam in his eye, Dan led Phil out of the station and up the stairs to glittering, bustling Forty-second Street. He guided the youth past the hustlers and the aging men who sought to purchase pleasure from the tough young midnight cowboys.
Phil gaped at the rows of tawdry theaters and hole-in-the-wall bookstores, and paused in front of one that displayed the most blatantly explicit books.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Phil turned back to Dan and they pushed on past the clusters of older men who glanced longingly at Little One. They turned the corner and Dan glanced at Phil with a smile. The boy had been talking and, after the initial shock of the street scene, had been oblivious to what was going on around him.
Only after they had walked several feet down Broadway's famous square did he look up, gasp and pause to stare at the gaudy flickering of the dozens of animated signs.
"I've seen pictures of this thousands of times, but there's nothing like seeing it for real, " he gasped.
They sauntered down the street for a couple of blocks, then Dan led Phil onto a side street. Little One again paused-there stood the first legitimate theater he had seen, its lights still glittering even though the show was nearly over.
At last the final sign at the final theater had been inspected, and Dan led Phil to a dimly lighted bar nearby.
"If anybody says anything, and I doubt they will here, just say you're eighteen," he warned. "That's the legal age, but nobody verifies it unless the police are pressuring them."
"I don't really-"
"You can have a soft drink if you like," Dan said and smiled. "But I think you'll find this place quite interesting."
He led the way into a narrow, murky room with clouds of smoke billowing from the tables and bar. After they placed an order with the handsome young waiter, Dan explained the reason for visiting the bar.
"This is a theater bar, nearly everybody here is in some show close by, or has been in a show and still comes to see friends and listen to the show biz gossip. It's a nice place to gather after the show. Kip Ralston, who has one of the principal roles in my show, is supposed to stop by and I thought you'd like to meet him in a little more congenial surrounding than an empty theater when rehearsals begin."
Phil nodded, but was more interested in gaping at the walls which were adorned with dozens of photos, many signed, of stars past and present. Although there were a few obvious tourists in the bar, the majority were obviously dancers and actors. Nobody but an actor exuded that certain dramatic flair, even when not on the stage. Conversations overheard also, Phil noted, were quite theatrical.
"That old queen offered me a run-of-the-show contract if I'd agree to put out for her, and when everybody was saying the play was going to be a flop," shrilled one chorus boy with a flip of his long mane of golden hair.
"I was going to do stock, but then I decided just to stay here and brave out the summer-the idea of having the producer paw me every night was just too much," another gypsy said to nobody in particular for his companion had turned to stare openly at Little One.
"Looks like you have an admirer," Dan said and chuckled. "Better not go to the John right away or you'll be snatched up before you can say John Banymore and carried home to bed."
"Yours-or his?" Phil replied, a smile brightening his face as he turned his back on the admirer.
"Touche," Dan said, nudging Little One's knee. He glanced at the door as another rush of people came in, and smiled broadly.
"Here's Kip at last, just when I thought I was going to lose you to some little theater fag."
"Theater fag-is that any way to treat a star?" Kip gushed as he reached the table. "How's New York's newest young successful author tonight?"
"Fine, and I didn't mean you, you fairy," Dan said and laughed. "Kip, I want you to meet Phil Decker. He's just arrived from the boondocks to spend the summer watching us put the show together. Phil, this is Kip Ralston."
They shook hands and the actor slid into a chair next to Little One, his knee immediately brushing against the young boy's leg.
"And how do you like the Gay White Way-or have you been here long enough to find out?" he said, turning toward the bar and bellowing a drink order.
"He's the only one I know of who gets away with shouting at the waiters here," Dan confided to Little One. "I think he has a piece of the action here and just won't admit it."
"Got it all wrong, Big Daddy, it's the waiters who would like to have a piece. I just keep them hoping and hopping.'
As the harried young waiter brought Kip's drink, the actor playfully patted the young stud on the bottom, then turned back to Phil.
"You didn't answer my question. How do you like all this fairyland of lights and music and filth?"
Phil glanced at Dan, not at all certain if he liked the actor or not. He didn't understand everything Kip was saying, but he did get the impression the actor was implying things he had rather not hear in public.
"Phil just got in about nine, so he's hardly had time to see anything." Dan internpted. "We walked up Times Square-"
"How touristy quaint!"
"Well, it's something to see once, even if we do think it's one big pesthole of trashy stores and it's the only way to get to the theaters."
"So I suppose you'll be busy the next few days doing the tourist bit. Why not get a glimpse of New
York the way it really is and come with me to an orgy tonight?" Kip said to Phil. "There's a party in the Village and if it's like the ones that mad creature usually gives, it might last for a couple of days. Simply heaven if you're not the sort to cruise the bars or the Johns.
"Thanks, but no thanks," Dan again interupted. "I don't think Phil's ready now for one of your infamous parties, and I know I'm not. I've got that damned second act rewrite to get done if you're going to have any lines to read. And you know you like to be on stage all evening."
"Well, it would've been fun. Of course, I understand. You just don't want to share the goodies."
He grinned at Phil and jostled his knee against the lad's once more.
"He would have been a sight to see, I bet, and that party would be a real eye opener," Kip continued inticingly.
"That'll do, Kip," Dan said, and his soft voice had a definite edge to it. "I think it's time we shoved off. Tomorrow'll be a busy day."
"Don't run," Kip pleaded. "I'm sorry if I said anything out of order, but you know me. The night's young and you should let Phil celebrate his first night in the big city. At least let me buy you a drink."
"Okay, but just one round. I do have to get some work done tomorrow."
Kip grinned, nudged Little One once more, and bellowed at the waiter for another round.
Their conversation turned to the play and Phil sat quietly as the actor and Dan bantered back and forth over the number of lines the performer would have. Another half hour was spent before they finished their drinks. Then, despite Kip's pleading, Dan was firm on his insistance that they had to leave.
"Stay on, if you like," he said to Kip. "You don't have to work until my job is finished, but Phil and I just have to get home."
"Well, if you must," Kip said. "Pleasant dreams, and don't do anything I would like to do and can't.
The crowds were beginning to thin out as the theater parties made their way home, and without too much trouble Dan was able to flag down a cab even though it again was raining slightly.
"That Kip is sure something," Phil said hesitantly as the cab pulled into traffic.
In the darkness Dan gripped Little One's warm hand.
"I'm sorry he was acting up tonight; he's not usually that crude. I think it's the summer and the boredom of just waiting around for rehearsals to start. You'll find him quite a nice guy really."
"I certainly got the idea he was interested in me. What sort of party--? "
"Nothing you should ever be caught at," Dan was quick to reply. "An orgy of the caliber he was talking about is quite something, and it can get out of hand. I've known some kids who've gotten hurt at such affairs. It's best you come along home."
"Where we can have our own'little orgy."
"If you like, but it won't be anything like what that wild thing will be having."
Phil leaned back, his hand still grasping Dan's fingers lightly. For a block or so he was silent. Then he looked over at Dan solemnly.
"Is-is everybody going to be like Kip?"
"How do you mean?"
"You know, he seemed so . . . so outspoken. like he didn't care who heard him. I-"
"That's New York. But to answer your question, no. And even Kip usually isn't as loud and noisy. like I said, he's just impatient for the show to start, and perhaps he was trying to put on a bit for you. Naturally, there are people who are crude, but you'll find them back home just as you do here. I know that sometimes this outspokenness in front of strangers can be embarrassing, but that, as I said, is part of New York. Just try to ignore the guys when they start-some of them even do it for shock. If they see it upsets you, they'll go even further."
"But-but sometimes I'm not really even sure what they're saying. like tonight. Half of what Kip was chattering about I'm sure was supposed to be funny, but I wasn't certain at all what he meant."
"All those sly little comments were just Kip's way of being clever-and to let you know what he is and that he was available and damned eager to trick with you."
"I got that message the minute he sat down-his knee nearly pushed me off the chair."
"That's Kip," Dan said and chuckled. "Doesn't lose a minute, even if he knows he's moving in on someone else's territory."
The rain was pelting the cab as it pulled to a halt in front of the apartment, and Little One skipped across the walk and into the foyer, just as he had skipped up the sidewalk back home, Dan thought as he followed the boy inside.
"Nothing like a rainy night for sleeping," Dan commented as they climbed the stairs. "Be nice if it rains all night."
Phil nodded, sty fling a yawn as he did.
"You've just about had it for one day, I think," Dan continued. "I suggest a quick shower and then right to sleep. Tomorrow'll be a busy day."
"But the orgy!" Phil said, a grin on his face but a note of determination in his voice.
"Plenty of time for that this summer. Don't become a sex maniac at your tender age, please," Dan bantered.
Phil grinned, but almost immediately after a quick shower Phil fell onto the bed and was asleep. More leisurely Dan showered, then sat down on the edge of Little One's twin bed to smoke a final cigarette. He gazed down at the serene face, its mop of golden hair already tousled and falling down on his forehead..
Dan sighed. The lad knew so much, yet so little. The summer could be quite an awakening, in many ways. It was up to him to see that Phil came to no harm, which was all too easy in a callous city that even was so uncaring as to allow stabbings to go unchallenged and unsolved. Who would care if another youth was corrupted? like some said, they had to want some fun to let themselves be seduced.
Dan shook his head. With his handsome youthfulness, Phil would be prey to every lustful creature he came in contact with. What between them was a bond of true love could all too easily be tarnished if Phil experienced some of the more sordid aspects of the city.
At last Dan extinguished the cigarette, then leaned over and, as he turned out the light between the beds, gently brushed his lips against Little One's moist lips.
The lad stirred, then reached up and pulled Dan close again. Dan sat down on the edge of the bed and their kiss became more passionate.
One hand reached over and untied the robe and pulled it away, then pulled Dan down beside him.
"Oh, Dan, I've missed you so much," he whispered as his hands rippled up and down Dan's sturdy back, then around to cup his heavy balls and squeeze the now throbbing cock.
"And I've missed you, Little One."
"I want tonight to be . . . be like that first night in Dallas. Do you remember?"
"How could I ever forget?"
He sat up and gently began massaging the youth's supple body, although this time he did not hesitate as he brushed over the boy's thighs and crotch where his ample cock was standing at attention.
Soon he leaned over and engulfed the boy's delicious cock, sucking it expertly, frantically and quickly bringing the excited youth to a climax accompanied by moans and a great sign as he shot out his hot sticky cum.
"I've longed for that, my love," Phil whispered. "And now...."
He slowly rolled over on his stomach and spread his legs as he had done in Dallas.
Dan leaned over and kissed each of the firm young buns, then with one hand massaging them and teasing the winking asshole, he reached with the other for a tube of lubricant which he applied to his long cock and to the boy's down-ringed fuck hole.
Slowly Dan leaned forward and touched the greasy hole with the tip of his thumping cock. Phil lifted his buns slightly, and reached around to spread them apart. He gasped as the tip of Dan's cock slid into the dark tunnel of desire, but urged Dan on.
"Push it in, I want to feel your whole big cock inside me, all the way," he whispered as Dan hesitated.
Dan pushed forward again and his glistening cock easily slid up the warm, moist boyfuck tunnel until his wiry pubic hairs were scratching the boy's buns. Little One relaxed and gave himself completely to Dan, who began the fucking movements of love slowly but steadily, and with ever quickening pace.
Soon he was pounding his cock furiously into the boy's asshole and the love juices began to surge toward the tip of his cock.
"I'm cuming, I'm cuming, my love," he cried out as he corkscrewed his dick deep into the boy's ass, then shuddered and spilled his cream in the tight tunnel.
"Yes, yes, yes!" the boy breathed. "I can feel it! Give it all to me, give me all of your love!"
As the last drops of Dan's boiUng cum spilled from his softening cock, Dan collapsed on the boy and kissed his cheek gently.
"Oh, my love, I have missed you so much these past weeks," he whispered.
"And I've missed you, too."
Slowly Dan pulled away from the boy, who moaned as the tip of the deflating cock slid from its tight cum-f illed hiding place.
By the time Dan had returned from the bathroom, Little One was sound asleep. Silently Dan slipped into his own bed and smoked another cigarette as he listened to the rain splattering against the window pane. Yet he was unable to sleep. Perhaps it was the excitement of the day, the realization that Phil again was but a few inches from him, and would be there throughout the summer.
With this joy, however, was the stern realization that he was responsible for the youth's well-being for the summer, a summer that only too easily could get out of hand with all the hot-blooded people Little One would meet. How to allow the lad to enjoy himself while not getting into trouble would be a major task, for the lad was naive in many respects and perhaps would become involved before he realized the dangers.
Yet he could not bear to think of Phil having to be curbed, even though to run free would possible lead him into situations that would soon make him jaded and tainted, unable to enjoy anything but the wildest sort of sex which would be so laughingly called love.
What was now so perfect, so pure a love, must not be allowed to become anything less. With this thought racing through his mind, Dan at last dropped into a troubled sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
It was fairly early in the day, especially for theater people, but already the pavements of Manhattan were beginning to steamily reflect the heat of the sun which scorched the towers and turned the subways into sticky, smelly pestholes.
What had been a stiffly starched sports shirt when Phil had slipped into it after his shower was now limp as a 42nd Street fairy's wrist,, and as soggy as the twenty-cent pizzas he had learned to shun in the Times Square area.
"Sorry you came to the big city now?" Dan teased as Phil mopped his brow as they paused for the light to change and the taxis to quit trying to beat the lights.
"No, but I see why you said air conditioning is a must."
"Well, we'll be at the theater in a minute, and it should be cool."
They turned the corner onto the street of theaters, and stopped at a drug store fountain.
"Light coffee, large," Dan ordered when the pimply-faced youth slouched over to them.
"Coke, the biggest you've got," Phil said, swabbing his damp forehead and brushing away a strand of his blond hair.
"Someday you're going to turn into a Coke, the way you swig them down."
"A guy at a store back home said he'd heard of alcoholics and dope fiends, but never a Coke fiend, until he met me," Phil said and grinned. "I just don't like coffee, that's all."
They quickly hiked the half block to the theater and walked into the cool, murky auditorium where rehearsals were to be held since the previous show had closed a few weeks earlier.
A few shadowy figures were huddled toward the front of the orchestra section. When they approached, Dan introduced Phil to Sartain, the producer-director, and several assistants.
"You're early," Sartain boomed to Dan and nodding with a smile and slightly envious glance at Phil who had quietly shaken hands.
"I've got a very anxious young theater buff who couldn't wait to get here," Dan said and chuckled. "If he had his way, we'd be rehearsing at seven a.m.
"God forbid," Sartain growled. "Some of our precious actors would hardly be dragging themselves out of their lovers' beds and staggering home to their own at that hour. They'd be in no shape for anything but a death scene."
Dan grinned, but Phil was already staring into the shadows of the fly loft above the stage.
"Go on up and have a look around, if you like," Sartain suggested. "Just be careful, I'd hate to see you become the first accident victim and there's a lot of crap left over from the last show. Don't know why it hasn't been cleaned out yet."
Phil smiled gratefully and sprinted down the aisle and vanished behind the proscenium.
Sartain grinned at Dan and sank heavily into a chair.
"Ah, to have the energy of youth again. It's all I can do to drag my ass in here by mid-morning after a wild night with some cute young star-struck kid."
Dan sat down and set his coffee on the floor close to his feet. "The energy and the bloom are both gone too soon," he said. "Someday someone'll come up with a wonderful pill and we'll all remain young and sexy forever and ever."
"Amen. Pleasant thoughts, but not very--likely. I'd settle just for the energy to take on those tricks who come looking for a part in my plays. Absolute dolls, some of them. Ah well, we better get to work."
Dan reached for his coffee just as Sartain suddenly bellowed, "Can we have some LIGHTS, please?"
The coffee cup shook.
"Sorry," Sartain said and laughed, "but the light man we have is as good at hiding out as the actors. If you don't shout loud enough to be heard over on Sixth Avenue, he can't hear you down in the basement or wherever he hides."
Once more Sartain bellowed, and almost immediately the first bank of lights over the stage winked on, blinding Dan and the others momentarily. One by one the others came on, as did those in the auditorium.
"We don't need them ALL, Herman, just a coupla banks will be fine."
One row of lights flickered out, then there was a sudden commotion backstage.-
"Now what the--? " Sartain stopped as a wizened but agile man suddenly appeared from the wings with Phil in tow.
"This kid belong here or what?"
"What's the--? "
"Caught him flipping light switches. You know as well as I do nobody ain't allowed to work lights lessen he's union," the old man sputtered, still holding tight to Phil's arm.
The producer made his way to the stage. Not until Sartain reached him did the light man release Phil.
"Okay, son, better go back down with Dan," Sartain said to Phil, who glowered at the lighting technician, then stalked away.
Phil slumped into a seat by Dan, still seething. "Damn stupid little-"
"Now," Dan interrupted. "I know how you feel, but you did do something wrong. You could cause quite a to-do here, and the union might even walk out."
"But all I-"
"It might not seem like much to you, but think what would happen if everybody decided to flip a switch just because it was a minor little thing?"
Phil continued to scowl, refushing to comment. After a few minutes of watching the rehearsal, he got to his feet and strolled up the aisle to the back of the theater.
He explored the lobby, nodding to a handsome young actor who Was sitting on a folding chair studying a script. Then he went into the restroom.
Phil had hardly unzipped in front of the urinal and flopped his heavy dick out when the young actor came in and stood beside him.
"Hot day, ain't it?" the actor said as he pulled out a good sized cock.
"Yeah," Phil grumbled. He didn't mean to watch, but his eyes kept straying to the young actor's cock, which was slowly growing hard.
"The sort of day I'd rather stay home in bed, if there's somebody cute and cuddly with me," the actor added, flipping his now hard rod.
Phil swallowed hard, but didn't answer. His own cock was beginning to stiffen and he didn't know exactly what to do.
"Nice piece of meat you've got there," the actor whispered as he reached over and grasped Phil's now hard cock. "I love tender young cock meat."
"I-what if somebody--? "
"No need to worry. They're all wrapped up in that damned first act. We're by ourselves for a good hour, at least."
"But-"
"Hell, man, I've ripped off more pieces of ass here than you could count, but nothing as nice as this."
He squeezed Phil's cock, then leaned forward and took the head of it into his mouth and sucked it deep.
Phil sighed and thrust his hips forward so the actor could take the entire eight inches of his dick.
His heart pounded, for he knew he shouldn't be doing what he was doing, but there was a thrill to the actor's tongue action that couldn't be resisted.
As he continued to suck Phil's sensitive cockhead, the actor unbuckled his trousers and slipped them down. Then he suddenly came up off Phil's spit-wet cock and turned his buns toward it.
"Shove it in, hard," he whispered. "I want you to drive me up the wall with that pile driver prick."
Hesitantly Phil aimed his throbbing, glistening cock at the actor's gaping asshole. As soon as the tip of his cock touched the winking fuck hole, the actor shoved himself back and Phil's cock was quickly impaled.
"Oh, yes, that feels great! Now slam your dick to me, hard!"
Phil did as he was ordered, and soon was pounding the actor's asshole furiously and without thought of any injury his fat eight-inch weapon might inflict. The actor expertly squeezed his anal muscles around Phil's cock and milked it.
Soon Phil was gasping as he slammed his dick deep into the shitty fuck hole.
"I-I'm cuming!" he cried as he splashed his fiery jism deep within the cock tunnel.
"Oh yes, I can feel it! Give it to me, all of it!"
As soon as the last drops of his hot sticky cum had been milked from Phil's cock the actor pulled away and pulled up his trousers.
Phil walked over to a basin and washed off the shit brown ass-fuck evidence, then dried his cock with a towel.
"I've never fucked in a John before," he said softly.
When he turned around he discovered that the actor had already disappeared. He shook his head in disbelief at what he had done, then pulled his trousers up and fastened his belt.
When he went back outside the actor once more was studying, his script and didn't even look up as Phil passed.
Phil explored the various side aisles and finally climbed a dimly lightly stairway that lead to a dusty, once plush box.
For quite a while he sat in the dark box, watching the rehearsal going on below. The actors still were using their scripts much of the time. Even those who claimed to have it memorized often had to be prompted.
Phil at last saw a young woman sitting just behind the curtain on the far side of the stage, script in hand, occasionally cueing the forgetful performers. From across the stage she looked hardly older than he did himself, Phil noticed.
Sartain from time to time stopped the rehearsal and complained about actors' reading of the lines. Phil smiled; it was almost like home where he often sat unseen in the light booth and listened to the director bellowing at actors who continued to yawn and ignore his directions.
The sudden thought of home was a sad one, for Phil still could feel that dreadful little man's firm grip on his arm and the spitting angry comments as he had been jerked away from the light board.
He almost wished he had never accepted Dan's offer to come to New York. Back home he would be in charge, he would be the one to scream should anybody else touch his light board. He felt terribly helpless and unneeded as he sat watching the rehearsal.
Finally he got up and went back downstairs, then found his way through an exit hallway to the backstage area. He momentarily thought of apologizing to the lighting technician and thus perhaps becoming friends. He stood for a moment in the backstage shadows.
Just in front of him was 'the script girl, who continued to prompt the performers. Phil glanced around and saw the crotchety lighting man dozing in a caneback chair beside the lighting panel. Perhaps it wasn't an opportune time to approach him, Phil decided. He moved slightly to get a better view of the stage and one of the boards beneath his feet creaked slightly.
Probably nobody else heard it, although to Phil it seemed screamingly loud. He froze momentarily. The script girl glanced around, smiled and returned to her concentration. The light man failed to halt his snoring, and the drone on stage continued.
Phil sighed and relaxed. He occasionally glanced longingly at the light board and the sleeping sentinel, but did not make a move to disturb the old man. There would be better times, he decided.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he heard Sartain's booming voice call out as the actors came to the end of a scene. "Okay, it's lousy, but let's break here for lunch. Try to have some life in you when you get back, okay?"
Hie cast began to disappear, and Phil started toward the stage and the steps leading back to the auditorium. The script girl looked up from her notes and smiled.
"Enjoying yourself?"
"It's okay, but-well, I'm not used to just standing around doing nothing."
"It takes time, I guess, but those are the unions for you. They'd probably scream if we had a fire and turning on a light meant saving the theater.
They'd want a union man doing it." They both laughed.
As they chatted, Phil saw Dan and Sartain approach. Both nodded to the script girl and she started to excuse herself.
"Don't go, why not eat with us?" Phil blurted out. "It's okay, isn't it?" he added, turning to Dan. Dan nodded with a grin and a wink to Sartain.
"Certainly, if she's in the mood for the Automat or something exotic like that."
"Well?" Phil said, turning back to the girl.
"Sure, I was just going to grab a sandwich somewhere, but with two handsome gentlemen offering to escort me, that suddenly sounds very boring."
The lunch passed swiftly, with conversation mostly between Dan and the girl, who finally realized that they had not been introduced and after telling Phil her name was Elaine Levy, added that, "I know all about you two, even if you don't know a thing about me."
Dan blushed, but realized that Elaine was teasing and even if she did know completely about their relationship, could care less.
Elaine, after watching Phil eat silently as he listened to their conversation, turned her attentions to him as they walked back to the theater, and since Phil was intrigued by her job, she invited him to sit with her, although she admitted, "I'll show you how to become bored with theater in a hurry."
Elaine picked up the bulky notebook containing the script and the many scribbled notes concerning stage directions.
During the breaks in the rehearsal they continued their conversation on various aspects of theater, although usually it was Phil expounding on one of his pet theories and Elaine occasionally gently adding her own views.
Finally the rehearsal was over, and Phil and Dan walked with Elaine to her uptown subway entrance, then crossed to the downtown stairway.
"She's nice," Phil volunteered as they plunged down the stairs into the steamy subway station.
"I'm glad you've found someone to talk with, and someone who doesn't have to slap your hand for trying to help," Dan said somewhat absently, as he still thought of the play and rewriting that would have to be done that evening.
Phil blushed at the reference to the lighting incident.
"I-I'm sorry about this morning. I didn't mean any harm. I'm just so used to flipping on the lights I forgot."
"I know you've apologized, but you've got to be extremely careful around the theater. It's not like back home."
"I know that, but-"
"No buts about it. Sartain could've kicked you out this morning. We've got enough problems without having the union on our back. That second act just isn't playing well at all."
The argument mounted as they entered the apartment and even a cool shower failed to calm their heated tempers.
As Dan banged dishes in the kitchen, Phil sat with unseeing eyes looking out the window. He had never seen Dan in this mood before. Tears welled up, and he fought for self control.
Perhaps he should just leave Dan alone for a few hours to wrestle with his problems. He recalled that Sartain constantly stopped rehearsals through the afternoon, with long conversations with Dan and the actors following. And everybody seemed to have such glum expressions as they left.
Everybody, that is, except Kip Ralston, Phil reflected. Kip never seemed upset by even the most heated argument over a line, a bit of action, a situation that wasn't developing.
Since that first night at the Times Square bar, the actor had been quite friendly, without the not-so-subtle hints that he had something on his sly mind other than casual friendship. Phil remembered Kip's joking, "come up and see me sometime" comment made late in the afternoon. He had flounced over in a ridiculous imitation of Mae West and everybody had laughed.
Perhaps a visit with Kip would be fun, and give Dan time to cool off, Phil thought. He glanced over his shoulder. From the sound of banging utensils, Dan must still be upset.
So quietly Phil slipped out of the apartment and, once he was downstairs, he pulled a slip of paper from his wallet with Kip's address.
Determinedly, without looking back to see if Dan had missed him, Phil set off at a brisk pace for Kip's apartment.
CHAPTER SEVEN
With a flurrish, Kip handed a drink to Phil, then slipped onto the divan beside his guest. His arm glided behind Phil, almost but not quite touching the nape of the boy's neck.
"Now, fess up, what really brought you here, dear? Don't tell me your lord and master allows you to flit around this wicked city by yourself at night."
Phil smiled weakly at Kip's effort to be funny. "He was busy, that second act trouble. So I just-"
"Bullshit," snorted Kip, taking a sip of his drink. "You two had a fight. I can always tell."
Kip set his glass down, reached over and took Phil's hand in his. Phil looked at him, a pleading look in his eyes.
"Did I guess right?" Phil nodded.
"I thought as much. Well, we all have lovers' quarrels. Don't let it get you down too much." "But-"
"Don't argue. I've been through a thousand moments just like this. What you need is to drink up, and then have quite a few more. You can stay the night here, and don't worry, I won't try anything if you don't want it. Tomorrow things'll work out just fine. You'll see."
"I-I just don't feel like drinking. Why do . . . ? "
"Everyone has a fight now and then. That's life, honey."
"Sometimes, late at night, I get to thinking. . . and wondering if all this is really right."
Kip smiled knowingly, and clutched Phil's hand tightly.
"Someone once said, 'Life has all kinds of things; there isn't only one road.' He was talking about us."
"Dan and I, we've talked about it, but still sometimes I wonder. Sometimes it seems all so wrong."
"Hasn't Dan opened doors for you, guided you to things that you wouldn't otherwise know of, enjoy? Don't tell me there isn't a deep, spiritual affection there. Sure, you have fun in bed, but isn't that just another way of expressing your feelings for each other, giving each other pleasure? It's not the same as going out on the street and making a pass at just any nelly thing that happens to mince past."
"But this . . . sex has gotten such a bad name in the theater. Don't you find it disgusting?"
"Disgusting? What's disgusting about sex if you like the guy? I used to cringe just at the thought of having to go to bed with someone to get a role, and I refused. But an actor has to eat, even if it means swallowing his pride . . . and sometimes something else." He chuckled.
"After I saw others getting roles I knew I could have done better, I wised up. Don't get me wrong, not every Broadway casting director is that way. Not by a long shot. It's sometimes easier to let some guy slobber over your dick for an evening and end up with a good role than to be so high principled and empty bellied. When it comes to my own pleasure I still can pick and choose.
"It's a shame the theater has to be this way, but that's the way it is and neither you nor I is gonna change it by sitting here bitching. You could end up with a very groovy job yourself, you know."
Phil looked sharply at Kip, surprise on his face.
"I'm sure Sartain could find you something. I've seen him looking your way."
"I-I don't believe it! Sartain has been so nice to me. He wouldn't-"
"Oh, he'd be quite careful and discreet, but to be perfectly blunt, I just bet he's itching to get in your pants."
"But he's married. Dan pointed out his son-"
"Phil, that's a gem," Kip said, bursting out in laughter. "Sartain is married for convenience alone. He hasn't been with his wife, except for public appearances, in years."
"But Scott--? "
"Scott was an unfortunate acccident, one night's mistake, so to speak. And there's been talk that Sartain isn't even the father."
"But why? What makes Mrs. Sartain--? "
"Money, old boy, and appearances. Hers was the trite but true story of chorus girl made good, and I do mean made. When Sartain decided he needed family respectability to woo money out of those conservative 'angels,' he chose her as a pretty jewel for his crown of success. When she realized what he was, at first she was all for splitting the blanket. Then she wised up to the groovy deal she had, all the things she's wanted but couldn't afford, an easy life without work, and a husband who didn't care who she catted around with."
"It seems so, so sordid."
"A lot of things in the theater world are, Phil. It's just on stage that life is so neatly tidied up by the third act. Let me cap off this little story of happily married family life by saying if young Scott doesn't become as big a queen as his old man, I'll be mightily surprised. He's sort of making the rounds of the better beds in town, already."
At last Kip quietly took the glass from Phil's hand and urged him to his feet.
"Enough of this jawing for tonight. I didn't mean to give you the unabridged lecture of life on the wicked, wicked stage," he said and grinned. "For all its sins, it's still the most fascinating field in the world, and I wouldn't change it if I could. Why don't we go find something to eat? I'm famished and you always look like you could use a few pounds."
Phil excused himself to wash his face, and Kip quickly dialed Dan's number.
"Hi, Kip here. I've got your love child in tow. You two have a knock-down, drag-out over there?"
He listened for a moment.
"Thought as much. Well, he's okay, sort of down in the mouth but we're going out for a bite to eat. I'll try to talk him into coming back after that. Just wanted you to know he wasn't cruising the streets."
He quickly hung up when he heard Phil returning.
"Have you eaten at Luigi's yet?" Kip asked as they cut across a narrow street in the face of a small foreign car that bleated in protest. "It's a'teal ball, especially if we can get a table on the sidewalk. The fried chicken is almost as tasty as the chicken that'll be strolling past."
"We haven't been going out. It was more fun to cook at home."
"You'll have fun. We can sit there and watch the fairies flit past," Kip said, chuckling as Phil looked at him with a perplexed expression. "I mean the real nelly things, the so-called queers who give all us gays a bad name. They sashay up and down all evening."
Phil still was easily lost in the Village, and was firmly convinced the streets never were in the same place two days in succession.
"Watch out you don't get raped," Kip muttered as they passed a crowded newsstand near a jammed intersection. "This is homo heaven."
A particularly effeminate young man with a mane of black curly hair which doubtless would tumble almost to his shoulders if it weren't swept up into a bouffant puff, suddenly shrilled "Kip!" and swished over from the building where he had been lounging.
"Hi," Kip said, almost sullenly.
The stranger unabashedly was staring at Phil.
"Well, Mary," he shrilled. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your new lover?"
Kip scowled as he saw Phil blush.
"This is Phil-Phil, this mad creature is Milton-"
"Millicent, please, darling."
"Okay, Millicent the mad artiste. She features herself to be the next Toulouse-"
"Too loose? That's a scream," Millicent said and cackled, totally ignoring the stares of others waiting for the light to change. "Hey, where're you dears going? We're having a bash later on. Why not come over? I like new faces and new, ah-"
"Dunno, Millie," Kip said and shrugged. "Phil and I are going to eat, and then I don't-"
"But, darling, there's plenty of time! It won't really get swinging until midnight or later. So many of the kids won't be out of shows. Come on over any time.
"And don't be afraid, dear," he said to Phil. "I don't bite-hard, that is." With a shrill laugh the creature turned and almost floated away, waving over his shoulder.
"Damn," Kip growled as they strolled on. "That's the trouble with knowing all the wilder creatures. They don't have any sense about causing a scene. I'm sorry if Millie upset you, Phil. She's really a good-damn, there I go calling him Millie again. It gets to be a habit; he gets so furious if you call him Milton."
They were able to steal a sidewalk table from under the noses of two leather-clad girls who turned away swearing like tfuck drivers, and enjoyed a leisurely meal and the scenery that passed by, as Kip had promised.
At last Phil turned to Kip in disgust as a particularly effeminate queen went screaming past, holding hands with a leather boy.
"I-I don't know what to think about all this," he said. "I'm sick to death of all these-I-well, queers. People don't have to behave like that, do they?"
"This is New York, not Oklahoma. Let your hair down a little, Phil, and let off some steam, or you'll swell up and bust inside."
"I-I just can't behave like them. It's disgusting."
"I don't say be a screaming, raging faggot. Just relax and enjoy yourself. Nobody's gonna run home and tell mama if you make eyes at some cute young thing, or maybe even go home with him. You're gonna get sick if you keep all your feelings pent-up inside." "But I have Dan."
"Well, then, let him know how you feel. Forget about the limp wristed ones. It's their life, not yours."
They finished their meal and strolled down the street, bought an ice cream cone apiece and finally found themselves in Washington Square where they sat down to lick their cream-sticky fingers and watch others stroll past.
More than one handsome young stud glanced longingly at Phil and some of the more bold ones even stopped to ask the time or for a match.
Phil tried to ignore their knowing looks, and kept up a prattle of nonsense with Kip. Somehow the conversation kept coming around to Dan, and each time a wave of sadness swept over Phil.
"Oh, God, Kip, what'm I going to do?" he finally cried. "I can't go back to him now. Not after walking out like-"
"Why not? But if you want, stay the night with me. You should feel differently in the morning. Everybody has fights; you wouldn't be human if you didn't. Now what you say we really kick up our heels and go to that mad queen's bash? Who knows, you may find a new lover and forget all about-"
The attempt at jest died on his lips as Kip saw the look of fear and sadness come over Phil's face.
"I'm sorry, Phil. I didn't mean it that way."
The boy nodded, but tears were welling up.
"A party will still do you good. Have a few drinks and relax. In the morning everythingll be just fine."
Kip held out his hand, beckoning to Phil. Mutely the youth followed, and when they reached the quiet of the dark side street, he clasped the actor's hand and they walked along together.
CHAPTER EIGHT
They were early and the living room of the small walk-up apartment was quiet, occupied by only three or four young men, all of them handsome young studs who admired Phil as he entered.
Gratefully Phil took the drink Kip thrust into his hand and soon was ready for another. He soon retreated into a corner to brood as the alcohol began to take effect.
He soon lost track of the number of drinks that Millie brought as the queen hovered over him, always ready with a full glass as one was emptied.
At last, feeling the need to take a healthy piss, Phil struggled to get to his feet. Only then did he realize what Millie had been up to. What seemed an innocent summer's evening drink packed a hidden wallop, and he weaved unsteadily, his stomach suddenly churning.
Phil fled to the bathroom, barely getting the door closed behind him before his entire dinner, the ice cream and the potent drinks came up in one bilious roar.
His vomit splashed into the commode, some spilling onto the floor and splattering his slacks. For several moments Phil leaned over the commode, gasping and retching until it seemed his entire insides were coming up. Finally he fumbled for a face cloth and, dampening it, sponged off his face, then dabbed in vain at the splattered slacks.
There was a knock, and almost immediately Kip slipped into the room.
"Oh, God," he cried, seeing the mess. "Okay now?"
"I feel a little better, but still woozy."
"Damn Millie anyway," Kip growled as he flushed away the ugly mess. "She's about as common as pig tracks. She was trying to get you drunk so she could take you off to bed."
"She did a pretty good job of getting me drunk, but I guess she didn't reckon on all the other crud I'd eaten fighting with the booze. Maybe I better go home, if you don't mind."
A frown crossed Kip's face.
"I-I don't know what to say, Phil. Eric and I sort of . . . but with you sick-"
"Don't worry, then. If you want to go, Kip, I'll be all right for a while. I'll just go find a quiet corner and rest."
"Why not go in the bedroom and lie down? Just lock the door behind you. That'll serve that bitch Millie right for getting you drunk. Eric and I won't be long. Then we can cut out and go home. Okay?"
Kip lead the way out of the bathroom and to the small bedroom. They were intercepted by a-suddenly anxious Millie.
"Everything okay?"
"He's sick, all that crap you tried to get him drunk with, you hussie. Better let him lie down and rest a bit."
Millie immediately was all comfort, quickly straightening the coverlet, turning up the window air conditioner and then standing by, eager to watch his young guest undress. Phil dropped to the bed, merely pulling his loafers off before sprawling out.
The hostess leaned over and started to unbutton his shirt, but Phil irritably pushed his hand away. "It's okay."
"But you'll wrinkle-"
"Damn it, I said it's okay."
"All right, dear, take a little nap and I'll look in on you again."
Then she pulled the door closed. Phil dozed off, forgetting Kip's warning to lock the door.
He slept for some time, finally awakened by the noise coming from the living room. He looked at his watch and saw it was after midnight. Kip still had not returned, so he fell back on the bed and dozed again.
The next thing he knew was hearing the door slowly open for a moment, then being closed and locked. Then immediately he was grabbed by half a dozen pairs of rough hands.
He cried out and struggled in vain to free himself as the muscular strangers, grinning down at him in the dim light, pawed him and started to unbutton his shirt.
From the other room he heard more drunken screams of laughter and, despite his cries of terrified protest, no aid came.
After he cried out a second time a rough hand grabbed him and held his mouth shut.
"Cry out once more and you'll wish you had no tongue," a voice hissed. "Now just relax and enjoy it."
Even with an arm around his throat, Phil tried to struggle as the studs tore his shirt and slacks from him, then jerked his shorts away.
"My, isn't that a lovely cock."
He looked up and saw Millie standing over him, a sneer on the face. "I gave you a chance to be nice, kid, but you wouldn't play ball. So some of my buddies decided they'd help me have some fun, and have a good fuck themselves."
Phil struggled again in vain as Millie leaned over and roughly grabbed his limp cock, played with it for a moment and then squeezed the heavy ball sac beneath.
"Okay, boys, break him in for me, will ya?" Millie growled. "I don't want to send him to the hospital, but I'm gonna fuck the shit out of him."
The studs pushed Phil over on his stomach and roughly jerked his legs apart.
Phil fought like a tiger until the stud who had held his mouth shut squeezed his neck until he gasped for air. Only then did he quit fighting.
"Oh, God! No, No! It'll kill me!" he screamed as the first cock brushed against his tight, resisting ass and then suddenly rammed forward, dry.
"Shut up, damn it," Millie hissed.
"But it hurts!"
"That ain't nothing, kid," one of the studs said and laughed. "Wait till you get Millie's milk bottle cock up your pretty little ass, that's when you're gonna know you've been fucked."
The first cock was buried to the hilt, and burned fiercely because Phil could not relax and allow it to have free entry as he had done when Dan's dick had come into him.
The cock plowed deep and corkscrewed in and out, each time a little faster and a little rougher until he was slamming his cock with all the stud's force.
"I'm cumming! Here it is, take my load, you bastard!"
Phil felt the stud shudder and then the splash of hot acid deep in his bowels.
He buried his face in his hands and wept as the stud fell over on his back, breathing hard for a minute.
"Come on, damn it, give us a chance." It was another of the studs.
The first jumped up, jerking the other guy's half hard cock from Phil's battered asshole as he did.
Almost immediately another cock took its place, his fingers jabbing at the ass to guide his fat cock to the cum-slick entrance. Phil cried out anew as the second prick was rammed to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
Tears began streaming down his cheeks as-Phil felt the fat cock frantically thrusting into his bruised asshole; this was far from the loving interludes with Dan.
The stud came almost immediately, and roughly jerked his cock out of Phil's ass as others jeered him.
A third and then a fourth stud mounted him and slammed their cocks into his aching asshole.
Phil finally lost count of the number of times his ass was invaded; perhaps some even came back for a second fuck.
Finally the last cock was pulled out and Phil was allowed to rest for a minute, but the torture was not over.
"Turn him over-I want to watch his damned face when I ram my cock into him."
It was Millie, a new, masculine Millie with none of the mincing qualities he had detested. This Millie was even worse, for she promised even greater torture.
Phil was grabbed roughly and turned over on his back, his legs jerked up in the air and then spread apart with a stud holding each so he couldn't kick.
Phil watched as Milton dropped his trousers and moved forward between Phil's legs. A look of real terror filled Phil's eyes as he saw Milton creep closer, fondling a cock that had to be eleven inches long and almost as thick as a milk bottle. It would rip his asshole apart!
Phil struggled until he freed one foot which he drove hard into the pit of Milton's stomach.
"Damn it! Hold him down, will ya? Okay, baby, if you want to play rough, so can we."
He reached down and jerked his belt from his trousers, then raised his arm and swung at Phil. The belt whistled through the air before it slapped across the back of his legs, cutting into the tender flesh. No one was gagging Phil and he screamed.
As the belt whistled through the air again a rough hand clamped over his mouth. Again and again the sharp' slap of leather against flesh crackled through the room until Phil slumped, unresisting.
"Now, maybe you're ready for the fun," Milton said, gasping for breath as he dropped his belt. "I've been saving the biggest and the best cock for the last. You'll know better than to play hard to get next time."
His massive pile-driver prick was hard and he aimed it at Phil's ripped-out asshole, then slammed it forward.
Phil tried to cry out as the pain rocketed through his body, but his mouth was held tightly shut. He thrashed about wildly, both feet struggling to get free. The other studs held him down and again and again the excruciating prick plunges deep within his asshole pushed him toward the brink of unconsciousness.
When he felt he could stand no more, Phil felt the drives increase in speed and urgency. At last with a furious pounding, Milton heaved against him mightily, spilled his fiery cum deep in the ass, then fell back.
"Now you can say you've had a real fucking."
Phil slumped onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. Blood dripped from his nose, apparently from a blow he could not even remember, and rivulets also trickled from the cuts inflicted from the singing belt. Perhaps his asshole also was bleeding; it felt as if it had been slashed to ribbons by the knifing cocks.
There was a commotion in the living room, and then a loud rapping at the door.
"Damn, Kip must be back," Milton snarled.
"What're we gonna do? He ain't-"
"Get his clothes on and take him out on the fire escape," Milton ordered. "He can find his way home from there."
"But-"
"We can tell Kip he got tired of waiting and went on home. I don't want Kip doing anything crazy, and he's the sort who might."
Milton pulled on his trousers and shirt and hurried out, barely opening the door as he did.
The others helped Phil into his clothing, then roughly shoved him down the fire escape. He slumped on the steps, so two of the studs half dragged him down the stairs and down the alley, finally depositing him on a garbage can.
"Now get the hell out of iiere, kid, and don't try to remember us or what happened or you'll really get it." Without warning he drove a fist into Phil's stomach. "That's just a' hint of what might happen."
CHAPTER NINE
Hugging the shadows and fearing any movement he was going to be stopped by a policeman, Phil staggered home. He all but crawled up the stairs to the apartment. He was clutching his stomach in agony, and leaned on the door bell instead of struggling for his keys.
When the door opened, he fell sobbing into Dan's arms.
"Oh, Dan, forgive me! Please forgive me!"
"What the--? "
"Please, don't ask now. I-I'm going to be sick!"
Phil ran to the bathroom and retched, then sat down and emptied the bloody contents of his battered bowels.
Dan helped him to the bedroom and, as he administered first aid to the cuts, Phil sobbed out his explanation of the gang rape.
After listening silently, lips pressed firmly together in anger, Dan helped Phil stretch out on the bed then brought him a stiff drink and sat on the edge of the bed, helping hold the glass to his lips.
"We should call a doctor. Some of those cuts are nasty. And no telling what all their-what else may have-"
"Oh, God, Dan, please! Don't tell anybody. They said if I told anyone who they were, they'd come after me. And a doctor would insist on calling the police, wouldn't he? Then Kip might get into-"
"Damn Kip, he should have stayed with you. I can find a doctor who-"
"Please! I'll be all right. Promise me you won't call anybody."
Dan looked into his tear-filled eyes, at the bleeding mouth and battered body. Slowly he leaned forward and dabbed at the spilled liquor with his cloth.
"All right, but you stay in bed for several days, and be a little more careful who you run around with in the future. Never trust an actor," he added, a twinkle in his eye.
Phil fell back on the bed, his eyes closed.
"If-if I could just forget, if I just hadn't gone storming out of the apartment like I did," he whispered. "You don't know what it was like, having all of those . . . they didn't even try to be gentle. I really thought I was going to die, especially-especially when the last one.. . . "
Phil looked up at Dan, terror streaking his face.
"He even boasted how not many people could take it! God, it was awful, burning, tearing up my insides. I don't think I can ever do anything again without thinking of tonight. It was so dirty."
Dan gently took the glass from Phil's hand and then held him gently in his arms.
"Just try to sleep now. It'll ease the shock. This is something that takes time to forget, or at least for the painful memories to subside. I doubt if you'll ever forget completely. Remember one thing, Little One my love. I do love you, and what we do is out of love, not lust. There's a difference, a big difference."
Soon Phil fell into a troubled sleep, tossing and moaning as he relived those moments of torture. Finally he fell into a deeper more relaxing sleep.
He remained in bed for several days, even eating from a tray Dan brought. When he did get up to go to the toilet, he cried aloud as the burning pain overcame him.
Gradually he began to recover from the torture, and moved about the apartment and even ventured forth in the early evening to sit with Dan in the park across the street and listen to the vesper bells of the seminary.
It rained the following Friday, and both retired early to read and listen to records. Finally Phil closed his book and slowly sat up.
"Think I'll have a drink. like one?"
Dan smiled.
"Why not? It's Friday. We should be living it up like everyone else."
Phil quickly prepared the drinks, then sat down on the edge of Dan's bed. Dan's hand crept out and gently grasped the one resting on the edge of the bed.
"Why anyone would want to hurt you, I don't understand."
'They just wanted a good sex orgy with something new and young and pretty, I guess," Phil said, a sly smile playing around the lips.
"Well, they'll just have to pick on somebody else in the future. You're my private property and I don't want anybody roughing you up. So be careful, hear?"
"Yes, master."
They sat in silent, pleasant togetherness, holding hands. Then Phil leaned over and gently kissed
Dan.
"You've been great this past week. I'm afraid somebody else wouldn't have taken me back after-"
"I'm just too kind, I guess," Dan replied, making room on the bed for Phil to lie down. "Or maybe I'm too selfish to let a pretty young.thing like you get away. You must admit you've learned how to love up a storm, even if you didn't give a good demonstration of your love-making ability that night with those animals."
He pulled Phil close and they kissed. Dan's hands slipped beneath the boy's loose-fitting shirt and stroked his back gently.
Phil's hands fumbled with Dan's buckle, then slipped beneath to fondle his stiffening cock.
"Won't it hurt?" Dan whispered'as Phil made it clear what he wanted.
"Not with you," he whispered. "I've wanted to feel your beautiful cock in me since I came home. I know you'll be gentle."
He kissed Dan, then his lips moved down over his neck and chest and heaving stomach, and finally to his throbbing cock. He sucked the cock deep into his throat, his tongue tantalizing the tip, and soon the weapon glistened with spit.
Phil turned and straddled Dan, one hand guiding the awesome manfuck weapon to the hidden anal cave of cock desire.
He flinched as the tip of Dan's dick pushed against the still sensitive cock opening, but determinedly he lowered himself until Dan's cock slipped inside his asshole and slowly moved up the shit tunnel until he felt it buried completely in his ass.
Slowly Phil lifted his body, then dropped down to engulf Dan's cock again. Dan also began thrusting his hips up, at the same time his fingers grasping the boy's nipples and pinching them until they stood up firm and hard.
Phil leaned forward and they kissed as Dan continued to drive his huge hard cock deep into the boy's battered asshole.
Suddenly he moaned and spilled his love offering deep within the tunnel, gallons of mancum. They fell over on their sides, Dan's cock still impaled in Phil's cum-rich asshole.
For some time they shared each other's lips as they came down from the summit of ecstasy.
For some reason the memory of that terrible torture came back to Phil and he shuddered. Then he remembered a comment Kip had made earlier that fateful evening: "Sartain has certainly had his eye on you."
He wondered if Dan has noticed as Kip had. He had said nothing, and Phil was reluctant to mention it.
Perhaps, he thought instead, this was an opportunity to be pursued. Sartain could be consulted concerning some sort of job. Certainly Dan could not complain if the producer offered to help, and he need not know until the effort had been made. He was even willing to go to bed with Sartain if necessary, as long as it lead to some sort of work.
He could not bear to think of returning to the theater and sitting around restlessly all day as others worked. Now that Sartain had brought in a director and was devoting his time to another theater project that had come up unexpectedly, he would be in his office. There Phil could approach him with his proposal, perhaps even submit to his advances.
CHAPTER TEN
With somewhat trembling hands, Phil toweled himself dry from a leisurely shower, pulled on a light knit shirt, the scanty European shorts he had just purchased, and tight, cock-hugging slacks.
At last ready, he clattered down the stairs, managed to snare a cab and gave directions for the Broadway office where he had an appointment-topic unrevealed-with Sartain.
His heart was pounding and his fingers trembling slightly as he entered the foyer and strode to the elevator. Suddenly he was beginning to have second thoughts about his plan.
But he had an appointment, so with leaden feet he walked down the hallway to the door modestly marked "Oscar Sartain, Theatrical Producer," and entered.
The secretary nodded and had him sit down to wait. He glanced at a copy of Variety and wondered if he could excuse himself and leave without too great a problem. He no longer wanted to face Sartain with his proposal, particularly with the bait he had so foolishly decided to offer.
Before he could make up his mind, the inner office door opened and Sartain stepped out, smiling at Phil.
His heart still fluttering, Phil entered the cluttered office crowded with Sartain's desk, a couple of lounge chairs and a long, black leather divan with stuffing protruding from a couple of broken spots on the cushions.
Sartain motioned Phil to a seat in one of the lounge chairs and eased himself behind his desk.
"To what do I owe this pleasant visit?" he said, leaning back and smiling.
"I'm looking for a job."
Sartain smiled, his eyes almost disappearing as his face crinkled up in fatty rolls.
"Doesn't everybody? What sort of job did you have in mind? A juicy role in my new show?"
"I want to work backstage . . . anything, just to be part of something. I'm tired of having to sit out front and watch others get a show ready."
'That does pose a problem, Phil. You know all about unions, I recall."
Phil blushed at the reference to that first morning's faux pas at the theater.
"What I had in mind was, well, perhaps you know of some off-Broadway theater that uses a non-union crew. I can do lights real well, and I don't think I'm bragging. You could ask any of the guys at the theater. I've talked with all of them since that first morning. Back home-"
"What happens when you have to go back to school this fall?"
"I-I was thinking I could stay here. Perhaps live with Dan and-"
"You aren't going to quit school, are you?"
"No, but I could go to school here and work at night."
Sartain sat silently for several moments.
"Does Dan know of this?"
"We talked about it, but he's afraid of what might-that something might happen to me."
"What do you think?" "I think I'm old enough to shift for myself," Phil said tersely.
"Oh?"
For a moment Phil sat silently In the chair, his heart pounding furiously and his stomach knotted. He could sense that Sartain was about to brush his request aside.
He got to his feet, walked to the door and flicked the safety latch to the locked position, then trembling but resolute, turned back to Sartain, who had leaned back in his chair, his tiny eyes watching closely.
Still without speaking, Phil deftly tugged his shirt over his head. He dropped it into the chair as he kicked off his loafers. Then he loosened his belt and shrugged out of his slacks. With another quick movement he slipped off the briefs and stood nude before the producer, his heavy cock slowly stiffening.
"I-I'll do anything . . . just find me a job in the theater," he pleaded in a hoarse whisper.
"You know how to sell yourself, anyway," Sartain said at last, "but how do you know I'm interested in buying?"
Phil blushed. "I.. . I'll do anything. Please-"
"Put your clothes back on, Phil," Sartain said and sighed. "Much as I'd like to, this isn't the time or place. Who knows who might come in.. . . "
"But-"
Sartain shook his head, then reached for a note pad and scratched a brief message.
"Take this to Zach Bergmann. Tell him I sent you. Maybe he can work you into something he's doing down in the Village."
Sartain looked up, his eyes feasting on the handsome body before him, then shook his head.
"You belong to Dan, son. He's a friend. Don't embarrass him, or me."
Tears welled up in Phil's eyes as he fumbled with his clothes.
Just then there was a rap on the door and Phil jumped, a surprised look on his face.
"Just a minute, Kathy," Sartain called.
"There's a call for you, line two."
As Sartain picked up the receiver, Phil resumed his hasty dressing. He stepped closer to the desk and silently accepted the note Sartain shoved toward him.
"I-thank you . . . thanks a lot," Phil mumbled.
His face still flushed from the rebuff, he silently turned and walked out, barely nodding to Kathy as he fled through the outer office.
Outside he hailed a taxi and slumped into the seat.
Dan's a friend. . . don't embarrass him, or me. Sartain's quiet plea repeated itself in Phil's mind until it grew to a thunder roll. This isn't the time or the place. Dan's a friend. . . don't embarrass him . . . embarrass him.. . .
Phil sobbed and tears trickled down his face.
The driver pulled to a halt in front of the apartment, then noticed the tears as he turned to Phil, who had made no effort to move.
"You sick or something, kid?"
"I-I'm okay," Phil gasped as he handed the driver a bill and bolted out without waiting for change.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dan paused on the third floor landing, a catch in his side causing a sharp pain as he breathed hard. He looked up to the fourth floor, trying to hear even a snatch of music from the apartment as a clue to Little One's mood. Phil had seemed strangely subdued when he had left, almost as if he didn't mind having been left alone for the day.
Dan heard nothing and, for an instant, another type of pain gripped him. He was always before greeted with music.
He slowly climbed the last stairs and opened the door to a silent, dark apartment. Instantly a strong odor slapped him in the face, galvanizing him to action. He fumbled for the light, at the same time calling frantically, "Phil, are you here?"
He knocked over a chair as he ran to the kitchen and silenced the ominous hiss of gas from the range. After flinging open a window, he looked about the living room and then ran into the bedroom, where he found Phil sprawled on his bed.
After turning off the gas on the heater near the bed, he flung open the window. A breath of rain-dampened air rushed into the room as he turned back to Phil, who lay on his side, his mouth open slightly as he breathed shallowly. Beside the boy on the bed was a small bottle that had been nearly full of sleeping tablets when Dan last saw it. Now it was empty.
Roughly Dan pulled Phil to a sitting position, slapping him and shouting his name. Phil stirred and mumbled incoherently.
"Phil! Phil, wake up! It's me, Dan."
The boy moved slightly in his arms, almost falling back on the bed. Gritting his teeth, Dan pulled him to the side of the bed, then forced his fingers deep into the boy's throat. Phil gagged, and a weak stream of milky fluid poured forth onto the floor.
When Phil could vomit no more, Dan pulled him to his feet and dragged him into the bathroom. Supporting the groggy youth with one trembling hand, Dan fumbled with the shower handle. When a blast of cold water spewed forth, he forced Phil under the stream.
Each second seemed like hours, but finally Phil was standing by himself, although still weaving groggily. Dan lost track of the time, but finally turned the water off and helped the youngster out.
On the slippery tile floor he jerked Phil's T-shirt off, then loosened his trousers. He took a towel and helped Phil dry himself. His own clothes were soaked, too, and for a moment he let Phil sit on the commode while he stripped.
Then, as Phil began nodding again, Dan jerked him to his feet and led him to the bedroom.
"Why, PhU? Why?" Dan demanded as he helped the boy into dry clothing.
He was greeted only by wracking sobs.
"Come on," Dan demanded.
Getting no response, he grabbed Phil's hand and forced him to stand.
"Got to keep you awake. Let's walk."
Drowsily Phil stumbled into the living room, which was still strong with the odor of gas, and Phil began nodding again. Brusquely Dan grabbed him by the arm and led him to the door.
They must have walked an hour or more, stopping occasionally at diners where Dan bought coffee to go. The first time he forced the strong, black liquid between Phil's lips, most of it immediately was retched back up onto the sidewalk.
Phil began sobbing again, but he still refused to talk.
It began to drizzle again, and they returned to the apartment. Phil was beginning to be revived and Dan allowed him to sit on the sofa while he brewed more coffee. This time Phil slowly drank the liquid, and it did not come back up.
Dan sat beside him, his eyes glistening with pent-up anger, fear and concern.
"Why? Oh, God, Phil, why?"
Phil shook his head slowly, his body again wracked by sobs.
"Is there anything wrong that I don't know about?"
"It's . . . I don't know. I was just sitting here this afternoon. It was raining and.. . . "
He did not mention his visit to Sartain; somehow that shame was too much to reveal.
"But why? You have me. What made you--? "
"I got to thinking about us, and what everybody back home might say. Then I thought what might happen if you ever.. . I don't know, Dan. It just seemed so hopeless."
Dan nodded; the feeling was not strange to him. He gripped Phil's hand firmly.
"But I'm here, and luckily in time. Don't ever think such things. Next time I might not be in time."
Tears rolled down Phil's cheeks as he turned away. That shameful scene with Sartain was so vivid still; it must always remain a secret.
"Sometimes I get to thinking about us," Phil went on. "And the fact that nobody really knows about me, and that they would have nothing at all to do with me if they.. . . "
"Damn it, Phil, stop this sort of thinking," Dan suddenly flared. "Nobody's going to know, even if it mattered. People like you for what you are, not what you may do in the bedroom behind closed doors."
Sometime's I get to thinking that everybody already knows, and they're being nice only because they have toj or because it's your play and they have to be nice to me because I'm with you."
"Stop it! Just stop such rubbish right now! You've got more friends than you know, and it's not because of me or anybody else but yourself. Sure, some people don't care for you, but I've got enemies, too. Everybody does.
"You've got more on the ball than half those damned high-paid electricians who sit around most of the time backstage, spitting on the floor. It's just because of the damned unions that you're not up there running lights on the show. Just ignore those few bigots who realize you know more than they do and are jealous and scared you ll show 'em up.
Phil turned and flung himself into Dan's arms, burying his head in Dan's shoulder.
"Oh, God, Dan, it was so horrible. I'll never try anything like that again. Never!"
Dan drew him even closer, lovingly stroking the boy's hair and forsaking words, communicating his love and concern by mutual silence. Phil gratefully pressed his sobbing body against Dan's.
"Hey there, better not fade out yet. I don't want you to bug out permanently, and I'm not at all certain-"
"Could we-is it too late to go to the park?" Phil whispered.
"In the rain?"
"I'd like it. The lights are so pretty in all the buildings through the rain."
"Maybe the fresh air will be good for you, too."
The rain had dwindled to a drizzle when they slipped out of the building and turned down the deserted street toward the small park. They walked slowly, holding hands and enjoying the mist gently blowing against their faces.
The park was deserted, the overhead lamps glistening softly in the puddles of water on the asphalt paving. For several moments they strolled aimless, then spreading their raincoats carefully they sat down on a bench that afforded a good view of the midtown skyline.
Phil snuggled close, his head resting against Dan, whose arm crept around the lad's shoulder and held him protectively.
"It's so nice on a rainy night. All the ugliness seems to be washed away," Phil said. "I wish I never had to go away, to leave you. Home is going to be so dull after this."
Dan smiled. Phil's comments were an echo of what he had once said summers ago when he spent his first allotted time in the magic city and found it time to return home.
It certainly was the plaintive cry of hundreds of others who had discovered the secret of the city that the masses never did. That beauty and charm could be found even amid the ugliest of things, if one but tried. Perhaps the beauty would be a tiny thing that would be taken for granted elsewhere. An awareness would ferret it out so one could appreciate the flowering plant in a drab window sill, a mystical blending of vesper bells from the seminary across the way calling the rustling robed students to evening prayers in a soot-blackened church as dusk muted the ugliness and turned the scene into an Old Master.
Perhaps the beauty would be the footsteps of a companion on the stair, a lover who momentarily would burst into the apartment, out of breath after four flights but still be able to smile and scorch fingers as he investigated the bubbling pots on the stove.
Beauty could be a five a.m. stroll along flower row just off Broadway, where burly men unloaded delicate flowers from tfucks and arranged them on wooden platforms with gentle hands foreign to the rougliness of language and appearance.
"How can I ever apologize enough?" Phil whispered, breaking the spell.
"Don't try. You don't have to explain if you don't want to. Everybody has moments in which they give up all hope."
"I'm so ashamed. It was so foolish. I don't know really why I would do-everything just seemed so hopeless. Why did I have to become this way? Why couldn't I be happy living at home with my family and friends and marry some girl my parents approved of? But girls always seem so silly."
"It's not an uncommon situation, Phil. I've often asked myself why such things happen. Life deals many blows, just as it allows us many undeserving moments of happiness. Maybe it's a blow to you that you can't settle down and marry some girl back home. But how many fellows your age have experienced what you have in a field they love like the theater?
"You just have to do the best you can in the circumstances, and say to hell with those who don't understand, or won't try. The world is more and more coming to accept gay life. As I've told you, sex can be many things. It can be dirty, or it can be beautiful, just what people make of it.
"Some will say our affection, our love is dirty and obscene, but you're old enough to know your own feelings. You were not forced into something against your will. Two people loving each other in their own way should offend no one. It disgusts me as much as any to see a vulgar display-between a man and woman as well as between men.
"Just live your own life the way you think best, and everything'll work out."
Phil tried to stifle a yawn, but failed. With a smile, Dan urged him to his feet.
"You've had enough talk for many a night. What you need now is a good sleep, and not with the help of any little white pills."
Slowly they made their way back to the apartment.
Immediately after the door closed behind them, Phil threw himself into Dan's arms and kissed him passionately. He led Dan to the bedroom where he quickly stripped his lover's clothes off and knelt before him to kiss his fast-rising cock.
He almost brought Dan to a climax before he paused and quickly undressed. They fell onto the bed and passionately sucked one another's throbbing cocks until with moans and gasps they both triggered mutual explosions.
With a final kiss, Phil fell back on the mattress and almost immediately was asleep.
For some time Dan sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the youth's now normal breathing, and then too stretched out and fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dan and Phil slept late the next day. Dan was the first to awaken, and then only because the telephone continued to shrill impatiently even though he tried to ignore the disturbance.
After a few groggy words, he sat up in bed wide awake. After listening for several moments, he cast a pained look toward Phil who, half awake, was listening to the conversation and trying to figure out who was calling.
Dan said little during the long conversation, although he started several times to speak.
It wasn't until the call was nearly over that he said more than half a dozen words.
"I do appreciate your calling," he finally said, "even if it's such a . . . I can't really believe it. Not that I think you're exaggerating, but it seems so out of character. Still, I think that answers the questions I've had about something else that happened."
He listened for a moment then, after commenting, "I'll see you tomorrow, then," hung up.
Without a word Dan pulled on a robe and strode out of the room. A moment later Phil followed him to the kitchen where Dan was measuring a spoonful of instant coffee into a cup.
"Who was on the phone so early, and what did he say that upset you? You are upset, aren't you?"
Without answering, Phil poured hot water into the cup and pushed past Phil to walk into the living room.
Phil took a soft drink from the refrigerator, then followed.
"It must have been something important, to call-"
"It's not early, and I haven't decided how important it really was," Dan said sharply.
"The call was from Sartain."
Before Dan could say more, Phil turned pink but said nothing.
"Why, Phil, why?" "Why what?"
Dan shook his head. "Don't play games, Phil. You know what I'm talking about. Sartain told me you visited him yesterday and offered-offered him anything for a job. Anything!"
"What did he--? "
"He was right in calling. I should have known, but why didn't you tell me? I would have understood. It would have been so much better if you'd told me and not-"
"No, you wouldn't understand," Phil said firmly. "I've tried to explain how I feel about just sitting around, but you don't seem to listen."
"I have listened, but there has been nothing I could do. There aren't many jobs that don't involve something like the union, or putting out. Don't you realize that I'd do anything I could for you?"
"It boils down to the facts you don't want me to do anything but hang around so you can show me off," Phil shouted, the veins on his neck bulging. "You're afraid I'll get involved in something myself and you'll be left out."
"That's not true, Phil," Dan said softly, "but I am responsible for you, and I only-"
"You only want me for yourself, any time you feel like it, and to hell with what I or anybody else thinks. If you really cared for me, you'd let-"
"Let you get involved in something where you'd be expected to go to bed with half the company? Is that what you mean?"
"Okay, so what's so bad about that?" he said. "You're the one who taught me to enjoy sex. Why should you be so damned hoggish. If I want to go to bed with Sartain or anyone else, why shouldn't I? It's my life."
"Is that what you really want? To go to bed, to debase yourself just for some minor job in some second-rate show that might run one night? I thought I taught you-"
"All you taught me was that fucking can be fun, and profitable. If going to bed with someone like Sartain once or twice means I get a job, so what? It's better than sitting around on my ass all day, waiting for you to snap your fingers and drag me home. Why not make the best of it? You're only young once."
"Then you're turning out to be nothing more than a common little whore, like those kids on Forty-second Street."
Phil smiled, but it was a weak smile that failed to cover the sudden hurt at Dan's cutting comparison.
"So what?" he tried to counter. "At least they do what they feel like."
"They're not involved in the theater, and that's something I think is important for you. You're being young and foolish, Phil. You've already been snubbed by Sartain. Doesn't that tell you anything?
"Sure, perhaps I've been too strict with you, but New York isn't like Tulsa. PeopleTl say what you want to hear, until they've gotten from you what they want. Then it's 'Good-bye Phil, what the hell are you still here for?' "
"That makes a nice speech, but about all you seem to do is make speeches about how fine our relationship should be, how we shouldn't be like anybody else. Hell, I'm human. I don't want to sit around all summer on my butt."
"But damn it, Phil, you can't-"
"Don't say can't to me! I can, and I bet I don't have to sleep with half the town, like you keep saying."
He jerked the crumpled slip of paper from his pocket and waved it at Dan.
"Sartain already has recommended me for a job, and he didn't even want me in bed. So what do you think of that, huh? You're just afraid I'm going to run out on you and you won't have any little puppy dog to keep you company at night. Well, the puppy is growing up. He wants to get away from his bitch now and fend for himself."
"I'm sorry, Phil, but I can't let-"
"You don't have much to say about it. I'm going to go get that job."
"Not-"
"I'll get my own place, if you're so afraid I'm gonna ruin your precious reputation," he snarled. "Everybody in the show knows what's been going on between us. All your talk about Greek love is a lot of crap. All you've ever wanted from me is a nice young hunky body to fuck. Why don't you quit kidding yourself? Nobody can really live like that any more. This is the twentieth century. It's an 'I'll-sleep-with-you-and-then-maybe-help-you' world."
"I'm sorry," Dan said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "I'm sorry that you feel this way. Someday, when you're older, you'll remember this and, I hope, feel ashamed that you ever said-"
"No, damn it, I won't," Phil shouted. "I'm tired of all this talking. It's time for some action. I'm going out this afternoon and get that job, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
"If you'll just sit down and talk about this calmly, perhaps-"
"No, damn it, I'm sick of talk. That's all we ever do. If you're gonna be so bitchy, then I'll pack my stuff and leave. I'll get a room somewhere."
"Phil, please listen to reason."
"When are you ever going to learn? Are you going to let me go or not?"
Dan shook his head.
"Then I'll move somewhere where I can do what I want," Phil said, and stormed out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door behind him.
For several moments Dan sat stunned, trying to realize what was happening. He finally decided it was best to let Phil go his own way for a few days. It would only take a few days for him to realize that life was not as easy as he thought. If Sartain recommended the producer in the Village, he must be all right.
Phil barely nodded at Dan as he came out of the bedroom, his suitcases in hand, and without a word walked out of the apartment.
Dan sighed; the affair was not progressing at all as he had imagined. But then, that was life. Deep down, he knew that the concepts he had tried to instill in Phil were still alive, even if suppressed by youthful zest.
As he sat in the silent room, the telephone rang.
It was Sartain again.
"I've set up everything with the director. He will definitely give Phil a job, and keep a fatherly eye on him for you. Don't worry about the director, he's happily married although he understands and is sympathetic. You can call him any time to see that Phil's doing the right sort of job."
Dan choked as he explained what had happened, "Well, I'm sorry he's skipped, but he won't get into trouble at that theater, anyway. I'm sure hell be back. He's not the sort to break off a friendship so quickly, I think. He's just angry. Give him a couple of days to cool off, if he can in this damned heat. And you, I suggest going out and having a fling yourself. Keep your mind off worrying about him. He's a big boy now."
Dan thanked Sartain, and then after hanging up fixed himself a drink and sat down somewhat numb over the angry scene that had flared.
He continued to sit and drink for some time. His reverie was interrupted in the middle of the afternoon by a call from a young cast member with whom he'd had coffee several times.
"I'd like to invite you over for supper this evening, and maybe we can talk about my scene in act three," the actor said. "I'd like to have your ideas on how you wanted it played."
Dan chuckled to himself; the scene was going quite nicely. No doubt Sartain had suggested the boy call Dan in an effort to get his mind off Phil.
Dan accepted.
The boy's apartment was a small studio, but tastefully furnished, and he was a surprisingly good cook. After dinner they talked for an hour or so, and then the boy suggested that Dan accompany him to the baths.
"I always hate to go by myself. I feel so decadent," the boy said and giggled.
Dan protested, but the boy insisted. They had talked briefly of Phil, and he also suggested that it would do Dan good to forget the boy briefly.
After another drink they walked over to the baths and, after waiting for several minutes, each took a room.
The boy disappeared into his, after promising to come back to visit Dan if they found cruising dull.
Dan stripped, wrapped the cotton gown around his hips and explored the hallways. It was fairly busy, although not all that many were attractive. Dan didn't really find much interest in any of them. He kept thinking of Phil.
Finally he went back to his room and stretched out on the cot.
Soon he was joined by the actor, Jerry Jackson, who sat on the edge of his cot. They talked and finally Jerry reached over and slipped his hand beneath the thin cover Dan wore and gripped his cock. It immediately began to harden.
"God, why would anybody give this up," Jerry breathed as he leaned over and began sucking Dan's now stiff cock.
Dan lay back quietly as Jerry sent shivers through his body with the expert cocksucking. The actor's hands also were busy tantalizing his thighs and slipping beneath to grip his firm buns and to tease his winking asshole.
The door was slightly ajar, and another young stud soon slipped into the room, fondled Jerry's ass for a moment and then aimed his stiff prod at the fuckhole. Jerry shivered momentarily as the boy's hard cock slid deep within his bowels, then resumed his frantic sucking of Dan's cock.
Somebody else came into the room and reaching over Jerry, felt between Dan's legs until he could plunge a finger deep into his asshole. Dan did not protest, and he crawled onto the bed and lifted Dan's legs so he could slip between them.
Jerry moved around someone's cock still buried in his asshole, so he could suck Dan's dick while the newcomer drove his long, thin rod up his ass.
The man's cock slid into Dan's fluttering asshole with one plunge, although it hurt for a moment as it pushed through the tight opening, then the stranger began frantically corkscrewing his dick deep into Dan. Quickly he reached a climax and, after gasping and crying out, fired his load of cum into Dan's ass, then withdrew.
He was replaced by somebody else, who plunged a fat, short rod into Dan's ass and also started pummeling it.
Dan lost count of the number of strangers who came into the dark room to fuck his willing asshole as Jerry steadfastly sucked on his cock. The first stranger had finished fucking the actor, and others now were taking their turn plugging his ass as Dan's was being plugged.
The wild ass fucking and cocksucking continued for perhaps half an hour until at last Jerry was able to bring Dan to a climax by fondling his balls and burying his cock completely down his throat.
Dan shoved his hips up and moaned as he fired his heavy load of hot sticky mancum into Jerry's hot mouth and throat. The actor sucked frantically to take every drop of cum Dan had to offer.
At almost the same moment the two strangers fucking them also reached climaxes and slammed their cocks deep into their well-lubricating asses.
Finally Jerry slipped off the glistening, softening cock and chased the other strangers from the room.
"What a workout," he sighed as he gingerly sat down on the edge of the cot. "Yeah," Dan said moodily. "But you're still thinking of Phil, right?" "How could you guess?"
Jerry grinned. "It's easy. I've sucked hundreds of cocks, and I can tell when they've got then-heart in enjoying it and when they're just getting their rocks off. You'd much rather have had Phil sucking your dick, right?"
Dan nodded and sat up. "I think I better go."
"You'll be okay? I don't want you to go away mad."
"I'm fine, but I won't be able to sit down for a week. God, I haven't had an orgy like that in years, I guess. Not since I first came to New York."
"Does you good, once in a while. Makes you forget all your problems."
"Yeah, I guess so."
Dan dressed quickly, and after thanking Jerry for the dinner, left the baths.
He walked aimlessly for a while, and at last found himself in the Times Square district strolling through the side streets with their theater marquees casting bright lights across the sidewalk.
How vividly he remembered his first walk down those streets, and how only a few weeks ago he had again enjoyed the thrill of theatrical discovery when he had introduced Phil to the area.
He wondered where Phil was now, what he was doing. God, how he missed that kid. He wondered how long it would be before he would return, admitting that their relationship was more important than a one-night stand. Or would he come back? Dan sighed. He would just have to wait, and hope.
