Sunrise
Sunrise
Timmead88@yahoo.com
Chapter 8
The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, please move on.
In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
The town of Stafford, the Sunrise Arts Center, and the characters in this story are fictitious.
Special thanks to Mickey S. and Drew Hunt, who have provided inspiration, advice, and encouragement through the writing of this series.
WHITNEY:
It was the first Thursday in November. The previous show had been taken down and the unsold items shipped back to their owners. Christian and Bradley had arrived the night before and had spent most of the day supervising the setting up of their exhibit. Jerome and I did most of the work, though Chris certainly wasn't above lending a hand when one was needed. By two o'clock the job was done, and I was really pleased with the new exhibit. Chris's acrylics were vivid, powerful pieces, and he was delighted with the way the three of us had arranged and lighted them.
What blew me away, though, were Brad's busts. I had never met any of his real life subjects, but their portraits in bronze or in some cases clay were impressive. There was a certain impressionistic quality about them, but each piece was individualized so that one immediately had the sense of a real person. Perhaps more surprising, however, was the fact that the ones done from his imagination were equally real, equally impressive. I responded to each of the busts by thinking, `Oh, I've seen somebody like that!' Or `Oh, I'd like to meet that person.'
Jean, bless her, had come to work at 8:30 dressed for the reception at 5:00, knowing she'd not be able to get home later to change. But she promised to hold the fort while Jerome, Brad, Chris, and I went to our respective places to shower and change. Well, Brad wouldn't have needed to, but he left and came back with Chris.
We all got back to Sunrise about 4:30 for the reception which began at 5:00. The hostess committee had set up an impressive array of hot and cold hors d'oeuvres. At one end of a separate table was a bowl of punch, served up by one of the committee ladies. At the other end was a selection of red, white, and pink wine, served on this occasion by Jon Baker. Jon looked good in a tan blazer, brown trousers, with a rust shirt and tan tie. I told him he looked positively autumnal.
Jerome had changed into khakis and a blue Oxford button down shirt. He looked so hunky, when I thanked him for all his hard work and for coming back, I really wanted to eat him up.
Jean was there, too, chatting with people, making sure there were plenty of brochures about the Telford/Fields exhibition, generally taking care of more things than I even knew about, I'm sure. I often told her she was the brains behind Sunrise and I was simply the front man.
Fiona McWhorter, chair of the gallery committee, was there to greet people. She and I stood in the foyer and welcomed our guests. She, of course, knew more of the arrivees than I did, but it was pleasant to realize that after five months at Sunrise I knew a goodly number of the people who came in.
We had a wonderful turnout. The reception ran from 5:00 to 7:00. The first to arrive were retirees, some of whom wanted to see the exhibit and then get home and put their feet up. Others, mostly couples, would have a drink or two – or several – and then go somewhere afterward for dinner. The ones who showed up after 6:00 were the professionals and their spouses, sometimes also professionals, who had just gotten off work and were on their way home or to a later dinner somewhere.
There was general enthusiasm for the works of both artists, but Brad's sculptures were clearly a big hit. He and Chris were both busy all evening shaking hands and chatting with patrons. At 6:00, I was able to get everyone's attention while I welcomed them all and introduced the artists. There was a round of applause, after which Brad and Chris were even busier.
Shortly after I'd done the introduction, Father Gary from Holy Trinity came up to me. He had a glass of chardonnay in his hand, and he had someone with him, someone I'd never met. The guy was an inch or two taller than me, which would put him about 5'10" of 5'11". About my age, he had what my grandmother used to call strawberry blond hair. Not red exactly, but reddish blond. His eyes were blue and rather deep set. He had a longish nose and angular features. He was good looking in his way. What put me off, I think, were the Armani suit and expensive shoes. As I stood there in my khakis and Joseph Bank blazer, I felt shabby. He reminded me of my brothers.
"HI, Father. Thanks for coming! Have you had a chance to look at the show? Have you met the artists?"
Gary laughed. "Yes, and yes. I'm really taken by Telford's busts. And I've met both men. They're obviously `family,' and they're both charming." Then he turned to the man who'd been standing beside him and smiling. "Whitney Pell, here's someone who asked to be introduced to you. This is Chave MacPherson, a member of the vestry at Holy Trinity." He pronounced it like Fearson, not Furson.
We shook hands. He smiled. There was a nice twinkle in his eye, but I tried to ignore it. I wanted to be polite, but this guy just turned me off. His clothes said money. He was too smooth. And he hadn't even said anything yet.
"Hi, Dr. Pell. I've been looking forward to meeting you and welcoming you to Stafford. Father Gary tells me that you go to Holy Trinity."
"Call me Whitney, please. And I'm happy to meet you, too. Yes, I go to Holy Trinity. Tell me, Chave, do you hail from the Raleigh-Durham area? I know there are MacPhersons there.
"Guilty as charged, Whitney. You must be from that area, too."
"Yes, I am." I wanted to change the subject. "I take it that you've met Chris and Brad. How do you like the exhibit?"
"I'm enchanted by Chris's work. Brad's wonderful, but I think his things are attracting a lot of attention because he's blind. I must tell you, there are some pieces of Fields' work that I'd like to have. In fact, I'll probably talk to Jean about at least one of them before I leave this evening."
"Wonderful! I'm glad that someone recognizes Chris's talent. I was afraid most people would be so impressed by Brad's work they'd overlook Chris's."
Just about then, more people came in, and I had to excuse myself to greet them. As I was shaking hands and saying hello, it came to me that I'd never even asked MacPherson what he did. Oh, well. I'd have to see what Jean knew about him. He looked like a potential contributor to the Alliance, if he wasn't already.
Fiona and her husband along with another Board member and his wife were taking Chris and Brad to dinner after the reception. When, about 7:20 the last of the attendees had left, Jean handed me a slip of paper. I was able to tell our visiting artists that we'd already sold one of Chris's pieces and three of Brad's. I hugged each of them, thanked them for allowing us to display their work and for being there, and said goodbye, as they were going back to Richmond the next morning. Each one had missed two days of work as it was.
After that group left, I hugged Jean and thanked her for all the things she did that I knew about and that I didn't know about. I shook Jerome's hand and asked if he'd like to go some place for dinner. He smiled an embarrassed smile and told me he already had plans.
"Oh, well, another time soon, then. And, Jerome, thanks, man, for all you've done. You and Jean are the ones who keep this place going. Don't think for a minute I don't realize that."
Again, he looked embarrassed, and grinned. "I like my job here, Whitney. I'm glad you are okay with the way I do it."
"More than okay, Jerome. I'm glad to have your help." He sort of ducked his head and left.
Jean had locked up her office and came back to the lobby. "That went well, don't you think?"
"Yeah, it was great. Thanks again for everything you do, Jean."
"No problem, boss. It's days like this that make me realize how much I like my job."
"Even though this has been a killer day, getting ready and everything?"
She grinned. "Yep." She paused a moment. "I see you met Chave MacPherson."
"Uh huh."
"George tried for a couple of years to get him on our Board, but he always said he was too busy. You might want to give it a try."
"Who the hell is he?"
"He's a junior partner in the most prestigious law firm in town, Gates, Brownlee, and Estes. Everyone says he's a comer. He seems to be making lots of money. I hear he's interested in music and art." She grinned. "And he's single."
"You can't be serious! As if I'd be interested in him!"
"Why not? He's good looking."
"Jean, dear, he's probably straight. Besides, I don't think I like him. He's not my type. I'll follow up on the idea of getting him on the Board if he's persuadable, but as for my being interested in him, forget it."
"Okay, Whitney. Get him on the Board. We could use his contacts, influence, and money. But when you wind up in bed with him, I promise not to say `I told you so'."
I practically sputtered. She hugged me and said, "Goodnight, boss. You'll take care of locking up?"
She left and I locked up. I had been too busy schmoozing the guests to have any of the refreshments, so I was hungry. I was too drained to go to a restaurant. I went home, pulled out some frozen lasagna and nuked it. I made a salad and ate at the breakfast table.
It had been quite a day. I loved my new job. But here I was, after being in a crowd of a couple of hundred people. They'd all gone off and done something interesting, maybe exciting. And here I was alone at home. I loved my beautiful house. But I needed to share it with someone.
LOUIS:
Judd and I didn't get together any the week after he was at my house for the first time. I emailed him every day, and he started emailing me with questions. We weren't avoiding each other exactly, but we found I could do my tutoring job online for the most part. I hated that because he was so great looking and so good to be with.
Since I hadn't seen him all week except to nod to in the hallway at school, I decided to go see him play on Friday afternoon. When I got to the soccer field, I didn't see anyone I knew well enough to sit with, so I sat up at the top of the bleachers by myself. Several rows below me I was surprised to see Mr. Baker, who volunteered at Sunrise, Whitney, and Mr.Cummings, one of the English teachers at the high school. I didn't know they were soccer fans. When the team came onto the field, Judd trotted over to the sidelines and waved at them. That explained, I supposed, what they were doing there. He'd told me they'd all been concerned about setting the two of us up to work together. (So it wasn't just a way for Whitney to get rid of me?)
When he was about to go back to the team, Judd looked up and saw me. His smile would have melted a glacier. Then he waved at me. Just as I was waving back, someone from the team called to him, and they all looked toward the stands. I quickly pulled my hand down, hoping they hadn't seen me waving.
JONATHAN:
It was turning out to be a busy and interesting fall for me. The night after Frank and I had cuddled on my sofa, I went to his house for dinner, taking the leftover pie and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. He'd fixed a roast of beef with mashed potatoes, gravy, and broccoli -- very substantial fare, designed to please almost any man. This man was pleased.
After we ate I helped him clear the table and load the dishwasher. He put away the leftovers and we sat in his living room. He'd rented a DVD of "Cold Mountain" and asked if I would like to watch it.
"Sure. I read the book when it was on the best-seller list. I'd be interested to see the movie. Who's in it?"
He grinned. "Nicole Kidman."
"No, silly, who plays the soldier?"
"Jude Law."
"Then by all means, let's watch it."
When it was over I was disappointed, except that I'd been able to sit there with my shoulder, hip, and thigh touching Frank for a couple of hours. We agreed that Renee Zellweger was the best thing in the movie.
The question in my mind was what to do after the picture. I could have thanked him, excused myself, and gone home, of course. But the night before we'd snuggled and done some nice kissing as the evening went on. I didn't want any regression from that point. On the other hand, I didn't want to push things, for fear of freaking him out.
We had been sitting together on his sofa. At the end of the flick, he asked me if I'd like anything to eat or drink. I told him I was still stuffed from his wonderful meal.
"Okay, then let's just relax a while. Sure you wouldn't like a cognac or something?"
"No, really, Frank, I'm fine."
He turned on the TV to the PBS station and found an episode of "As Time Goes By," a BBC sitcom with Judi Dench.
"Oh, leave that on, please. I really like this series, though I've probably seen every episode twice."
He chuckled. "Another Judi Dench fan, huh?"
"Yep."
We put our feet on the coffee table and relaxed. He slid his arm behind my back and put his hand on my waist. I leaned my head against his, and we watched the story of Jean, Lionel, Alistair, and the others. I was having too much fun looking at Judi and feeling Frank to drop off to sleep as I had the previous night.
When the episode ended, Frank clicked off the TV and dropped the remote onto the seat next to him. Then he turned and put his hand behind my head, still with his other arm around my waist. He pulled me into a kiss. It was gentle at first, but it became more heated. Soon I was hard. At my age erections aren't an everyday occurrence, but I'd had a lot of them since I'd met Frank.
He put his hand on the front of my pants and began to rub gently. Something in me wanted to grab his crotch, where I knew I'd find a hard cock, and squeeze. But I sat up.
"What's wrong, Jon?" He looked puzzled, almost hurt.
"Frank, I'm sorry. Last week you came home because you weren't sure of your feelings about us. I'm having thoughts like that tonight. Actually, I shouldn't put it that way. I am really attracted to you. But now that there's no hindrance to our being as intimate as we like, I'm feeling as if we're going too fast."
"Is it Will again?"
I thought about that. "I honestly don't know. Intellectually, as I told you before, I think Will would encourage me to get on with my life. And I think he would have liked you as much as I do."
Frank squinted his eyes briefly. "Like being the operative word?"
"Well, yes, I suppose that is it. I really do like you. I haven't been with anyone I feel as comfortable with since Will died."
"But?"
"Oh, shit. You're a very sexy guy. I wasn't sure at my age I could get this turned on again, but there's the proof," I said, gesturing toward the tent in my slacks.
"So what's the problem?"
"I'd love to jump into the sack with you, Frank."
"And that's a problem? The `sack' is right down the hall."
"Yeah, it is the problem. See, I'm not sure I'm really interested in casual sex. I'd like to keep the sex for a guy I love, a guy I could commit to for however long I have left."
"Oh. Well, I suspect you have a few years left yet," he said, grinning at me. "And I honor your feeling. So where do we go from here?"
"That depends in part on whether you want to call this off right now or see how it works out. I really like you. I look forward to being with you, to going places together, to staying home together. Are you willing to keep things at that level for a while and see what happens?"
He considered that for what seemed like a long time. I was afraid he was going to tell me that he wanted to move on. Instead, he smiled and said, "I've never had a long-term partner, Jon. I'm not sure how good at that I'd be. But, yes, I'd like for us to keep seeing each other and see what happens. I've gotta warn you, though, I'm not made of steel. You heat me up, and I can't stay chaste for you forever."
"I wouldn't expect you to. But can we just keep seeing each other as we have been, keep up the gentle things like snuggling and kissing, and see where it goes from there?"
"Okay. Here's the deal. We'll stay with what we're doing until Christmas. If by then we aren't a couple, we'll say so long and no regrets. If we are a couple, then we seal the pact with some hot sex."
"With each other?" I asked with a straight face.
He looked puzzled for a moment, and then he roared. "Yes, you crazy bastard, with each other."
"It's a deal."
I thanked him for the dinner and the evening, we kissed, and I went home.
JUDD:
It was cool to see Whitney Pell at the match that day. He was sitting with Mr. Howard and Dr. Baker. What was even better, though, was that Louis had come. I knew he was there just because of me.
Muirfield wasn't a very strong team, and we won pretty easily, 4-1. I scored three of our goals. After play was over, I went over to the sidelines to thank the men for being there. They said lots of nice things about my playing. I looked around for Louis, hoping maybe we could get together that evening, but I didn't see him anywhere.
The guys on the team were in a good mood, as they always were after a win. There was the usual horseplay in the locker room and in the shower. As I was getting dressed, the cousins, the guys who had warned me against fags after Tom left, came over.
"Nice game, Judd."
"Yeah, I guess we kicked their asses, huh?"
"We did, but I was talking about the game you played. You're the man."
"Thanks, guys, but it takes a team to beat another team, as Coach says."
"We're gonna go celebrate. You're gonna come, aren't ya?"
I knew what `celebrate' meant. "Geez, I dunno. You know what would happen if we got caught drinking. If you were just goin' to Mickey D's or someplace like that, I'd be glad to come along. But that's not what you have in mind, is it?"
"Naw, Billy's folks are away for the weekend and he's got a bottle. Don't be a wuss, man. Let's have some fun tonight. Billy says there'll be some chicks there, too."
I laughed. "Yeah, I can imagine what kind of chicks Billy could round up. So, you guys go ahead. I've got other plans anyway."
"You got a date?"
"Maybe."
"Cool. Who is she?"
"Let's see what happens this evening. Maybe I'll tell you about it later."
"Okay, dude. Good luck. Hope you score," Jamie said.
"Hey, Thomas," Phil asked, "your `date' wouldn't be with Louis Lefevre, would it? I saw him waving at you from the stands."
"Louis's been helping me with that art course I got stuck in, but that's all." (`So far,' I added to myself.)
"Well, dude, he better not be your `date.' Remember what we told you after that fag buddy of yours left town."
"Why don't you guys just mind your own business? I'll decide who my friends are, male or female. I know we're team mates and all, but if you don't like who I want for my buddies off the field, you can just piss off."
"Not a good attitude, man. You might want to think about what you just said."
They turned and walked off.
I got dressed quickly and went outside. When I got to my car I grabbed my cell phone and called Louis.
"Hi, this is Louis."
"Hey, dude, where are you?"
"I just got home from watching you win your match against Muirfield almost single-handed. Congratulations!"
"Think you could get out of supper with your folks and meet me somewhere? I could eat a moose, and I need to talk to you."
"Anywhere, Judd."
"How about Applebee's? I don't think we'll run into any of my soccer buddies there."
"Cool. Twenty minutes?"
"Yeah, see ya."
I called home, explained to my mom that I was celebrating our victory with Louis and wouldn't be home for supper. She thanked me for calling and said to say hello to Louis.
"I love you, Mom."
She seemed a little flustered, but she said, "I love you, too, Judd. Are you all right?"
I chuckled. "You think something's wrong because I said I love you?"
She laughed. "Well, dear, I did wonder."
"Guess I need to say it more often. I'll be home later. Don't know when exactly. Hey, would it be all right if I brought Louis with me?"
"We're going to the Bensons' for bridge this evening. We won't be home until midnight, probably. I baked some cookies this afternoon, so you and Louis can help yourselves to those if you like."
"Mom, you're too cool. Thanks. See ya in the morning."
"Bye, dear. Be careful."
On the way to Applebee's I calmed down a little. I began to wonder whether I should even tell him about what Phil and Jamie had said. I just knew it would feel good to get something to eat, unwind, and talk with him. And then I realized I hadn't had anybody I could be so relaxed with since Tommy had moved away. I was thinking of Louis like he was my best friend.
When I got to Applebee's there were a lot of people waiting around outside. I spotted Louis. He was wearing jeans and had his hands stuffed in the pockets of a hoodie. He looked cold. It was the first I'd noticed how much it had cooled off since that afternoon.
He seemed to smile all over when he saw me. "Judd, great game man. I'd heard you were good, but it was really cool watching you out there."
"Thanks, Louis. You look cold. Would you rather get some takeout and go back to my place?"
"They say it will be at least a half an hour wait. Guess we should have remembered this is Friday evening. So, yeah, if you don't think your folks'll care."
"I've already cleared it with Mom. They're going to be out until late, and she said she'd made some cookies. We can have them later."
"Great. What are we gonna do about the cars?"
"I've got an idea. I'll stop by the BK drive-through on the way to my place and meet you there. Whoppers and fries okay? We've got coke at home."
"Yeah, let me give you some money."
I tried to refuse, but he handed me a twenty. "You've paid both times we've eaten out before. My turn. Now, I'm gonna call home, and I'll meet you at your place."
I got two Whoppers apiece and lots of fries. Louis' shiny black Sebring was in the drive when I got home. He got out as I pulled in next to him.
We wasted no time in getting the burgers, fries, and Coke set out on the breakfast table. We didn't talk much as we ate. I was too hungry for conversation, and he tucked into his food pretty well, too.
One good thing about take-out is that there aren't any dishes to wash. When we finished eating I asked him if he wanted any of mom's chocolate chip cookies. He said he'd rather wait until later, so we put the paper trash into the container under the sink and went downstairs to my room.
I gestured for him to sit in my reading chair. I turned the computer chair around and sat in it. He had thrown his hoodie on my bed. His button up shirt was open down the front, and he had on a dark green tee that stretched across his chest.
"Damn, Louis, you look good. You must work out."
He grinned. "Just about everybody does these days. I belong to the gym near the mall, and I've got some free weights at home. You've never been in our basement."
"Well, it's all paying off."
"Thanks, Judd." He leaned forward. "Listen, man, didn't you say we needed to talk? What's up?"
"Those two guys on my team, the ones I told you about. They're Jamie and Phil."
"That doesn't surprise me. They're both pricks. Have they said something else?"
"Yeah, after the match. They wanted me to go someplace and drink to celebrate our win today. I let them think I had a date. They seemed to buy that. Then one of them asked if my date was with you. I guess they'd seen you waving at me before the game."
"Oh, shit, Judd. I'm sorry. I've fucked things up, haven't I? Why didn't you just call and tell me you didn't want to see me any more? You're doing well enough in your art class you don't really need me as a tutor now."
"Whoa, bud. Calm down. I told them I'd choose my own friends, and if they didn't like it they could shove it."
He looked at me seriously for a minute and then, slowly, his face was covered with a smile. He got up and came over to me so we could high five. "You actually told them that? "
"Yup. There's only one more game, and I've decided those bastards aren't gonna run my life."
"Like I said, though, you could save yourself any trouble with them if you just weren't seen with me anymore."
"You don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"Louis, you're my friend. Those guys don't mean anything to me. I've always liked most of the other guys on the team, but I've never been buds with any of them. Since Tom left, I've never really had a close friend. But now I feel like you're the best friend I have. And I don't want us to have to hide our friendship because of a couple of bigoted snobs."
He'd been standing in front of me. As I said all that, I was looking at his package, which made a really tempting bulge in his jeans. I wanted to just lean forward and nuzzle it. I felt almost dizzy for a moment. We couldn't continue to talk while he was standing and I was sitting, so I stood up.
He had a little smile on his face as he looked into my eyes. I think I licked my lips, but all I'm sure of is that my cock was so hard it hurt and my heart was pounding.
"Did you just say I'm your best friend?"
"Yeah."
"I'm gonna tell you something that may change that. But I gotta be honest with you. I want you as my friend, Judd, but there's something you have to know."
I laughed. "Louis, I already know you're gay, remember. Or are you gonna tell me now you're really straight?"
He wasn't smiling, but there was a kind of sparkle in his eye when he said, "I've had the raging hots for you since the first time you brought me down here. I've wanted to jump your bones every time I've seen you. I don't know whether I can go on just being your friend or not. It's causing too much leaking in my CK's."
I giggled at that. Then I grabbed him, pulled his chest against mine, and held him there while I licked his neck.
He groaned softly and said, "So I guess we can be boyfriends and not just friends?"
I managed to say "mm hmmm" as I was sucking on his neck. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my belly through both our jeans. I was wearing boxers, and mine was trapped sticking down my left leg. It was so hard it hurt.
Soon we were naked, except for our socks. I pulled him over to my bed and pushed him down so his feet were on the floor and he was lying back. I spread his knees apart and knelt so I could get at his cock. What a cock! It was so much bigger than Tom's I worried about being able to handle it. After all, it had been over a year since I'd had a dick in my mouth, and this one was big. On the other hand, I was literally salivating at the prospect of getting at it. Louis' skin color was very dark brown, but his tool was absolutely black. It glistened from the precum that was running down it.
Just as I was opening my mouth to go after it, Louis said, "What's your hurry, babe?" He turned so he was lying lengthwise and pulled me in beside him. "I know it's been a while for you, but let's really enjoy this." Then he lay on his side, put his arms around me, and began to kiss me. As he did, he rubbed that big beautiful cock against my stomach. I was hard and slick, too, so I began to hump him back. We kissed and humped until I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I was concentrating on the kissing. It wasn't like with Tommy. When we'd done it, it was sexy. But with Louis it was more like we were connecting, sharing something, not just getting ourselves worked up.
I was so much into the kissing that I was surprised when I felt the familiar signals down below. "Shit, Louis, I'm gonna come!" He just pulled my mouth back to his, and we continued kissing while I went rigid and then pumped my seed all over both of us. He rolled me over on my back and got on top of me. His tool was trapped between our slippery bellies as he continued to hump me.
Then I felt him tense up. He threw his head back and said "Ahhhhhhh! Oh, yes, babe. It's my turn." And he blasted hot cum all over my abs. Then he lowered himself so our chests were touching. He wiggled around, smearing our cum all over both of us.
We were still lying like that when I heard people walking around upstairs.
"Oh, shit! My folks are home."
Louis giggled and rolled off of me.
"Come on, let's go in the bathroom and get ourselves cleaned up." We were both walking toward the bathroom, naked, covered with cum, when I heard the door at the top of the stairs open. God, I hoped whichever of my parents it was didn't come down!
"Judd, we're home. I see Louis' car in the drive. Why don't you boys come up and have some cookies and milk?"
"Hi, Mom. What are you guys doing home so early?"
Louis was rubbing the cum on my body with his hand, working it into the skin, and grinning at me. I slapped his hand away and pulled him toward the bathroom. I suppose it would have seemed strange to Mom if she came down and we were in the bathroom together while our clothes were scattered around the bedroom, but I obviously wasn't thinking too clearly at the time.
"There's a power outage in the Bensons' part of town. Carl got out a lantern, but it was a little dark for playing cards. So we had some of Marge's cheesecake and came home."
"Oh, okay. We'll be up in a few minutes."
"Great, dear. Hi, Louis!"
"Hi, Mrs. Thomas. I'm looking forward to some of those cookies as soon as we finish up down here."
Mom shut the door. I looked at Louis, covered with his cum and mine.
"Man, that was close!"
"Does she ever just come down when you're in your underwear or anything?"
"Not really. I'm expected to keep my own room policed up, so the folks don't come down here much. But I'm sure glad she didn't just then."
The cum all over Louis looked so good on his dark skin that I bent over and began to lick it off.
He giggled. "Oh, that tickles, man! You gotta quit that. Besides, we promised to go upstairs for cookies."
"Yeah, dammit." I grabbed his sticky but softened cock. "This is the snack I really wanted."
"All in good time, bro. I'm thinking a 69 for the next time we get together. Like tomorrow night?"
I hadn't realized it. This was the weekend. Louis and I were boyfriends, maybe about to be lovers. And we could do this the next day and Sunday and . . ."
"Come on, Judd. We'd better get cleaned up before your mom wonders what we're up to."
"Yeah, we'd better get this stuff off before it dries. And we don't want to go up there smelling like cum, either."
I wet a cloth in warm water and very carefully cleaned Louis up. Then he did the same for me. I was about as happy right then as I'd ever been.
Mom's cookies were good, too.
To be continued