UNDER THE CHERRY TREE
By
Rev. Jesse Penfield Gibson, MDiv, DMin
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters and situations are purely imaginary. Any resemblence to any living persion is coincidental. This story is primarily a romance but does contain some scenes of explicit sex, primarily homosexual but not exclusively.
Complaints, compliments and comments to revjpgibson@Hotmail.com
Please remember to give to Nifty to keep the stories coming
TWENTY
In the early morning hours, I went back to the house, which was unlocked, and crept upstairs to my designated bed. I heard the sounds of sex coming from the front bedroom and I assumed that Danny was going at it. I woke up when the morning light hit me in eye, causing me to toss and turn so I could continue sleeping but finally I had to give up the effort. I dressed and headed down stairs. Going down the stairs, I could smell fresh coffee brewing and I sleepily headed for it. Betty Jean was in the kitchen, stirring something in a bowl vigorously. She told me that Xander was outside getting eggs from the chicken coop. I nursed a cup of hot black coffee waiting for him to return, not wanting to talk with the family matriarch that much. Xander was shirtless and sweaty, his hair damp, from a morning run when he returned with a basket of eggs. He, as always, was vibrant and alive.
I sat on the front porch swing, sipping the coffee and being silent, trying to process my feelings. I didn't know how to view myself at that particular moment. Not that long ago, I had accused Reed of statutory rape for giving a blowjob to Ian and now I had done worse. The fact that no one seemed like they would care also bothered me, as did Reed's taunt about having to start younger than 15 if I wanted to protect the virtue of a Crowe Brother. It seemed that 12 might be too old. When Xander came out, I told him what had happened.
He smiled. "Yeah, those things can get pretty wild. I was a year older but it was Colin, Liam, Jimmy and my sister Siobahn. You haven't met her but she gave me a lesson in what to do to a pussy"
"Your sister?"
He shrugged. "I didn't actually fuck her because we don't want a two headed baby.A tongue can do a lot. Listen, Dill, certain places and times around here, there are no rules and there no taboos. If you have a problem with it, you just stay the fuck away. But if you go, you understand what it is. Last night was one of those places and one of those times. The way things work around here is that nobody messes with the little kids. They can play and do whatever they want, at least about sex play and stuff. Karl, Ian, Cason, Leo, Tempest, Fiona, they have to initiate it. Really, there is nothing intergenerational that goes on except for Grandpa and Jimmy."
Danny wandered out onto the porch, naked. Xander told him that I was upset about having participating in Karl's initiation. Danny chuckled, "A little more than you expected?"
"I don't understand how you could send your son off to live in the woods with a pedophile. I'm sorry because I don't get it," I told him.
"That's because you think that sex is bad. I don't. I think it is there to be enjoyed. Karl has as much right to enjoy his sexuality as you do or I do. Little Ned, all of 2 years old, is practically addicted to rubbing himself down there and he has as much to right to his sexuality as you or I do. I send my children out there to learn how to be wild, how to be uncivilized, how to survive. I send them out there to learn what's important to them and what isn't. Ask around: see if you find anybody who thinks it was a negative experience. There have been a couple that didn't stay long because it didn't suit them and that's fine. Most kind of wish it would have lasted longer."
Xander looked at me. "Just after my Mom died, I had my first truly manic episode. Well, first bipolar episode. My life was shit. Grief because of my mom and Kerry was only 19 and she couldn't afford to take care of me. My Grandparents were raising hell. But I came here, at least for a year, and they sent me out there to Grandpa. He taught me how to hunt, how to fish, how to build, how to party, he taught me how to live. I didn't mind the sex. I was happy to do it. For one thing, he is really very sweet under that exterior and I truly think that he loves me. I was happy to make him happy. I wanted to."
Danny looked at me. "Nobody is being exploited. Nobody is being forced. Everybody here is free to do what they want. We've just moved beyond petty morality. You got your dick sucked by a boy perfectly happy to suck your dick. You were horny and you fucked a boy who likes to get fucked. You're not going to go to hell because there is no hell and we don't give a shit because there is no reason to give a shit. Pretty soon, Karl will be running around in the woods naked as the day he was born and will be as happy as he can be."
Reluctantly, I tried to perk up and seem more cheerful. I wasn't that sure I completely bought into their way of looking at things. But it was their way and who am I to say that it is wrong for them? Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, deer sausage, grits and biscuits with jam. It was a pretty hearty meal and delicious. There was a crowd around the table: Danny, Betty Jean, their other lover named Jessica who was very obviously pregnant, Ian, Karl, Ian's girlfriend Casey, me, Xander, and four younger kids. A few minutes later, Colin came in with his two wives and two children to join in. Ian and Karl both had enormous appetites. I did ask Karl if he was looking forward to going out to the woods. He grinned broadly and assured me that he was. I was also surprised that Xander was eating meat but brief lecture from Danny on the difference between hunting for meat and the industrialization of death. Danny, it was clear, liked to hold forth.
"So, for everybody tripping tonight, that probably should be the last meal of the day." Danny announced.
"And what's tonight's special?" Colin asked.
"5-MEO-DiPT. Just finished a batch," Danny said
Xander laughed. "Foxy? Boy, you know how to stick it Dylan."
I looked at Xander, questioning. Colin spoke up, "No thanks, Not my cup of tea. I don't like diarrhea and muscle cramps that much. I'll just have some `shrooms."
Xander signed on though, especially after learning there was also some drug called DPT also. He explained to me that it wasn't as hallucinogenic as LSD but more than E. Even more than E, it had a positive mood lift and euphoria. The main thing was that the sex was amazing. There could be some muscle tension, excess stimulation and diarrhea, so not eating anything for 12 hours was a must. He clearly wanted me to agree to and I did.
The after breakfast bath was interesting. The amount of hot water was limited as it was heated passively with solar power, so it was pretty much family style bathing. In a stone floored room, you just had to gather around and slop yourself off in full view of everybody. I wasn't used to being naked publicly but I could see why Xander and his brothers developed a positive body image. The fact that everyone here was lean and fit made a difference. Nudity was natural to them and every stage of life was represented and viewed as normal. Of course, it was a working farm and like every farm, the work is hard and begins early. Everybody seemed to have a role and chores to do. It appeared that Xander's role was to go shopping. Someone from each family group came by and gave him a shopping list. He explained that he would be leaving with a shipment of drugs and the payment was made via the shopping lists. For the most part, the lists were prosaic, staples mostly. There were a few specialty items, some food but a couple of books and some tools too.
We had to head into Savannah to shop and took a SUV with Fulton County plates to do it. It was a "clean" vehicle, having never held any marijuana. Once in Savannah, Xander took me on a brief tour of some of the squares, pointing out some architectural detail that he liked and promising that soon we could come back for a more leisurely visit. I had never been before but downtown Savannah in the spring may be one of the most beautiful cities in the country. The bookstore wasn't a chain like Books a Million and was on a very pretty square behind the Hilton, one square over parallel to the river from the Cathedral and one square up from Mercer House, the site of the shooting in the book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. While we were there, we went over to Lafayette Square and looked at the childhood home of Flannery O'Connor, one of my favortie writers. The grocery store was just outside the historic district and the neighborhood looked rundown. But it also looked like it was locally owned instead of being a chain operation. We got multiple 5 lb bags of flour, sugar, and grits plus boxes of salt and pepper. We had to get butter and cheese too plus a variety of cleaning supplies. In total, it was actually a lot of stuff. Xander also made sure he got sweet treats for the kids too. The hardware store was locally owned too and then we headed back.
We were just outside Clyo when Xander asked me if I was sure I had no drugs on me. "No," I said. "Why?"
"There's a cop on our tail" he answered calmly, sneaking a peek at the rear view mirror.
"What do we do?"
He hesitated for a second. Then he said, just as calmly as before, "Nothing. We'e busted. Don't say anything. Politely refuse to answer."
Just then I could see the lights of the police car. Xander eased over to the side of the road and stopped. It seemed like a really long time before a fat Deputy Sheriff waddled up alongside the car and Xander let the window down.
"License and proof of insurance" the fat Deputy said in an unfriendly tone. I couldn't see his hands.
"The license is in my wallet. I'll get it out now," Xander told him. For the most part he was staring straight ahead and his tone was oddly formal. He handed the license to the Deputy and said, "The insurance card is in the glove compartment. There's also a loaded Glock G31 in there too. Do you want me to get the card out?"
I didn't know anything about the gun and I was momentarily scared. I looked over at the cop and saw that he had his gun drawn now. That definitely frightened me. "I want you both out of the vehicle, passenger first. Keep your hands where I can see them," he ordered us.
I got out, trying to remember not to make any sudden moves but the adrenaline was pumping. He made me go to the front of the vehicle and put my hands on the hood. Then Xander got out and did the same thing. A State Patrol vehicle came roaring up from the direction of Clyo, his lights going. He came to a halt behind us and came out with his gun drawn too. I looked over at Xander trying to see if he thought everything was all right but he continued to stare stone-faced ahead.
The State Patrolman took the license and began to speak in his radio. "David Alexander Crowe, 036314159, date of birth 7/12/87." Then he demanded my license and read my information into the radio. Just then a second Sheriff's car pulled up, his lights going too. The State Patrolman retreated to his car and the second deputy, skinny and inbred looking, watched us while the fat one searched the glove compartment. The inbred deputy patted us both down.
"Do you know why I stopped you?" the fat one asked, having come around from the other side.
"No, sir" Xander replied.
"Do you know how fast you were going?"
"Yes sir"
The fat deputy stewed a bit. The trooper came back and handed the licenses to the deputy. They instructed Xander to go to the back of the vehicle, separating us. Cars passed us by and I can imagine what they thought with two college aged boys and three cop cars. The trooper stood in front of me and asked, "Where were you two boys going?"
"I don't know" I said. It was technically true since I still hadn't quite figured out the way.
"You don't know?" the inbred deputy said, getting very close up to me but not touching.
"No sir, he was driving."
"Well, where was he driving to?"
"I don't know" I answered again.
"You're beginning to piss me off, kid. Do you want to piss me off? Because nothing can be turned into something real quick if I get pisssed off. You don't want that, now do you? So, I'll ask you again, where were you headed?"
"That way. Toward Clyo" I regretted the answer as soon as I said it.
"You being funny? You think this is a joke? You need to get an attitude adjustment, kid. This is not a joke. Do you see anybody laughing?"
"No sir"
The Trooper came back. "The vehicle is registered to a Phillip Nicholas Crowe."
The inbred Deputy got in my face. "Is this vehicle stolen? Where did you two get this vehicle?"
I was stunned. "Phillip is his brother."
"And where is he at? Did he give you permission to use his vehicle?"
"I don't know"
The inbred Deputy shouted back toward the fat one. "Hey Jimbo. I think we have probable cause here. This vehicle may be stolen."
The Trooper was next to him and held up his hands. "This is a local matter. If you fellas got this under control, I'll be headed off." Clearly, he wasn't comfortable with the nature of their probable cause. The fat deputy had Xander come back to the front and put his hands on the hood. Nothing in Xander's bearing said anything. He was a blank. The inbred deputy watched us while the fat one searched the vehicle, periodically telling Xander that if they even found a leaf of pot that we would be going off to jail. Xander didn't react at all.
The fat deputy waddled back up to the front of the vehicle. "Where you taking this stuff? Back to Daddy's?"
"Sir, I respectfully decline to answer your questions" Xander said.
The two deputies conferred briefly and the fat one returned to the hood of the car. "If I call this Phillip Nicholas Crowe, what line of bullshit is he going to give me?"
"Sir, I respectfully decline to answer your questions"
"You need to get a new line, kid. That one is getting old."
"Are we free to go?" Xander asked, still facing ahead, not looking at the deputy and showing absolutely no emotion at all.
The fat deputy spit on the ground. He looked back at the other deputy. "I guess you are."
Quietly, we got back in the car. One cop pulled off and away but the fat one waited for us to go and he fell in behind us, following us. I breathed a sigh of relief now that the tension was over. "He didn't even give you ticket," I said.
"He didn't have anything. Joe is a pretty good lawyer and he's made them look bad before."
"Look, I'm sorry. I told them that Phillip was your brother and that's when they decided to search the car. I know you said not to say anything and I tried, I just didn't know how to do it."
He smiled briefly and looked up at the rear view mirror. "He was going to search the car no matter what. He thought he had something. This is going to take a while since he's following us."
We continued driving much farther than I thought we ought to and I asked Xander about it. He said that we were leaving Effingham County and coming back the back way. The cop wouldn't follow us out of his jurisdiction. If he went to the back way, we would just have to repeat it until the cop guessed wrong and we could go back unmolested. It turned out that he guessed wrong on the first attempt and we went back after a trip 30 miles out of our way.
When we got back, Xander told his father about it. Danny sent one of the younger boys, named Sean, to get somebody named Charlie, who was one of the people living on the farm. After Charlie got there, he questioned me pretty closely, paying particular to the inbred Deputy's mentioning marijuana.
"It was Jimbo, right?" Charlie said to Xander. "Looks like the family tree didn't branch much?"
"Yeah,"
"He's an idiot," Danny said, disgusted.
"We can bust everything down if you want, send Xander back tonight ahead of schedule," Charlie said to Danny, who was pacing the room. "But I don't think it means much. If they did, it wouldn't be a low yield traffic stop and flimsy probable cause."
"If it means anything, I think they were kind of hoping to find something, anything, and then use it on Dylan, to get him to talk," Xander said. "They really didn't ask me shit. They weren't interested in me. They were trying to pressure Dylan but when the big dick didn't find anything, they didn't have shit to hold over him."
"It sounds reasonable, Danny," Charlie opined, standing up and walking over to the window. "But we have the same decision to make."
Danny thought about it for a second. "The boys go back tomorrow like planned. It's better at a time of our choosing. But Dylan goes with Colin in the lead car, all the way to Statesboro. Text your pet monkey to pick him up there. Sorry, kid, but you're the weak link in this so you are kept as far as from the drugs as possible. We're not going to break everything down for a traffic stop by a couple of idiots."
Xander sank onto the couch. "Dylan going in the lead car was what I wanted to begin with, if you remember. This is our thing, not his. I was serious when I said that I would protect him no matter what."
Charlie looked at Danny and then me. "Okay, Xander. Nobody is going down in a blaze of glory if that's what you're worried about. We pay good money buying people off and we'll get our money's worth. Nothing's changed. You just have to avoid being nicked by Larry Law Enforcement and depend on the fundamental corruption in the system. We understand that you're in love with Dylan and, while we would prefer that you were cold-blooded and ruthless like Phillip, that's not the way you're made."
Xander shrugged. I could tell that he was unhappy at being lectured to. "I know what I believe Charlie. I know the deal. I lived with the fucking pigs for two fucking years. Two fucking years and none of you assholes did jack shit for me. For you it's a fucking revolution, black market and grey market bullshit. I just hate the motherfuckers. I hate the redneck bullshit and random gunshots at the house because it's two dykes that live there, the whole fucking thing. But I found somebody who loves me and who doesn't want to fuck with my head. For the first time in my whole fucking life, there's somebody, besides Kerry, that just loves me and I'm not fucking that up. Sure as shit not for your lame ass political bullshit."
Danny nodded his head, indicating to Charlie that he wanted him and me to leave. Charlie motioned to me and we went outside on the porch. Charlie rolled a cigarette and popped it into his mouth. "I guess you met my son, Joe. Kerry's husband. He's a good lawyer but I'm better. So I take it that this relationship with you and Xander is serious?"
"It is" I said.
"I'm glad. You two are good for each other, I think. God knows Xander could use some good. You strike me as the kind of guy that could very easily wind up making nuclear bombs for the government and waking up 20 or 30 years from now wondering if this is all life is. That won't be what happens if you hang around with Xander. I guarantee you that it'll always be interesting. For most of us, anarchism is a position that we came to intellectually or, really I suppose, psychedelically. For him, there's a layer of anger and resentment that finds voice by breaking the law and he is instinctively anarchic but the real appeal to him is artistic. He explores the boundaries of reality for the artistic value. Phillip, on the other hand, is motivated by cash. He believes in nothing."
"I don't know about the anger and resentment part," I replied, staring at him as he stared out at the yard.
"Sarah was abusive when she was manic. Kerry tried to protect him but she was young too. Emily, her later lover, did too, which explains, in part I guess, the loyalty that he feels toward Cassidy and Dexter. Danny is unwise to refer to Cassidy as his pet monkey. Their bond is far stronger than that and Xander, after all, has the capacity to be unstable. But his real hatred is toward Henry Stafford, Esquire, pillar of the establishment and the source of the family instability. There's resentment toward Danny, too, and his brothers to certain extent. Don't misunderstand me, Dylan, I don't begrudge him his grudges. For the most part, they are well-placed and well earned."
"Well, if you don't mind me saying so, I don't really care about any of that. I know how he feels about me and I know how I feel about him."
Charlie turned and patted me on the shoulder. "And that's really all that matters."
"And I notice that you call him Xander and everybody else calls him Alex"
"I call him what he wants to be called. He was Alex when he left and Xander when came back. I will note that he didn't come to stay, just visits either long or short. If Danny still calls him Alex, I will allow you to ponder the deeper psychological import. Oh, and by the way, Jack, my son, has a bit of a crush on Xander. I'm sure he'll be bothering you two tonight but I would appreciate it if you would be good to him."
And nothing happened that day to follow-up the police harassment of earlier. Danny seemed to think that harassment was all it was. So the preparations continued on for a community trip that evening. We carried furniture outside because apparently that was where most of the activity was going to take place. Various people straggled over, particularly those with guitars and other instruments. Just like last night, there was going to be live music from the community. Xander took me aside and told me that I didn't have to join in if I didn't want. He was worried about my "set", whether the negative experience with the cops would bleed over into the psychedelic experience. Actually, several people, including Danny, also asked me about it. Set and setting are important with psychedelics. They were arranging the physical setting to be conducive to the trip and they all had considerable experience in tripping. But a person's mental state is also key. Going into the experience relaxed, curious and desiring it make for a good trip, while stress, fear, or ambivalence make for a bad trip. They believe that the drugs don't cause the psychedelic experience; they merely unlock the ability of the mind to be psychedelic. Rightly or wrongly, I felt confident about it. I definitely trusted Xander and I think I was beginning to understand Danny. A rational person might think that odd, but I felt safe.
Some members of the community were designated to look after the little kids and make sure they got to bed eventually but they weren't banned from the party. A couple, including Danny, were designated as pilots, which is exactly what Xander, Cass and Dex do. Danny measured out the fine white powder on a digital scale and then dissolved it in a carefully measured amount of water. Then it went into cups with exactly 10 milligrams of the drug. He told me that 5-MeO-DiPT is not the kind of drug you eyeball because the dose-response curve is so steep.
Xander and I got a cup. "Slam it down fast," Xander told me. "It tastes pretty bad."
That was an understatement. Licking the butt end of a camel would be more pleasant than this stuff. And the taste stuck around, too. Danny had a capsule in his hand for Xander. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
"What is it?" I asked. If Danny was worried about Xander doing it in addition to the Foxy, I wasn't sure it was a good idea.
Xander took the capsule and swallowed it. "4-HO-DiPT. It's an ass-kicker."
Xander wasn't the only who took that combination. A couple of others did too. Apparently, it was for experienced psychonauts only. Ian followed us in dosing but he didn't add the other. Karl got a half dose and, surprisingly, so did young Jack and a pair of boys who looked like they were 10 or 11, but they only got half doses. That seemed wrong to me but their parents seemed okay with it. The musicians in the group were once again playing Grateful Dead songs sociably but an old fashioned stereo, a nice one, was also out on the porch.
We sat around listening to the music for about a half hour. By then, Xander was clearly tripping and tripping hard. He sucked in a huge lung full of air, and fell back on the ground with his eyes closed. "Oh, my fucking God," he whispered.
"Bad?"
"Oh, man. This is amazing," he said.
Ian said he could feel some mellowness like with pot but I didn't feel much of anything. But then, in a creeping sensation, I began to feel a little anxious and began to worry if I should have done this at all. Xander stood up and began to wander around aimlessly, stopping to look at random things. I could only imagine what was going on in his brain or what he was seeing. But he did seem restless, perhaps even a little agitated. That, too, worried me. Actually, everything was beginning to worry me.
Then it began to hit. I could definitely feel something different. It felt like my body was humming. Well, it felt like the muscles of my body were contracting in time with the music as it were. My heart seemed to be pounding and my pulse racing. I put a finger above my wrist and could tell that my pulse was actually normal. The next 10 minutes seemed like a lifetime. I am becoming incredibly aware of every part of my body. It's like I can feel every cell, every tendon in my body. I am hyperaware of every body function. I am a little nauseous too. Jack is near me and he says something but it sounds like static.
Then an incredible sense of euphoria envelopes me. The visuals are kicking in too. There are patterns, fractal in appearance, in everything I look at. As I move my hand, I can see the trails that it left behind in the air. Colors are brighter and more intense but they are not stable. If I look away, a leaf changes colors entirely. But I find everything that I look at to be extremely pleasurable. Ian is talking to me. I can process what he is saying perfectly well. He is telling me about his first LSD experience, which was with Xander and Phillip, and comparing it to this. I find what is saying to be monumentally compelling. He asks me why I left Reed and I tell him. He seems fascinated by it. Xander comes back and falls down beside me. I stroke the hairs on his arm and that feels amazing too. Jack sits down too and I am fascinated by his smooth young body, virtually naked.
The guitar players have abandoned their playing. They too are tripping. Somebody puts the Allman Brothers on the stereo. The long guitar solos and improvisation of the music seems right. I can lose myself in the music; let it flow over me and into me. I and the music are one.
Then, as it intensifies, I feel overwhelmed. Not in a bad way, just that it is too much. I want less stimulation, particularly less auditory. I want to be away from the music, not so far away that I can't hear it but farther than I am right now. I get Xander and we go walking. Jack joins us and it isn't really a bother at all. We don't go far, just to an ancient tobacco barn near the house and well in sight and hearing of the larger group. There are people wandering about like we are too. For the next little while, he and I walk around and run into other trippers and have a pleasant conversation or two. I don't feel drunk or intoxicated, my faculties are intact and I can carry on perfectly reasonable conversations, it's just that I am overwhelmed by physical sensations and visual and auditory stimulation. Just walking and being active feels intensely good.
I stay in this state for a really long time. Of course, every second seems like an eternity so it is hard to judge. It was clearly nighttime but I am jazzed and energetic. Xander is clearly banging hard too, much harder than me, I think. He tells me that this is the most intense experience he has ever had. I reflect on it. In some ways, acid was more intense but in other ways less. Ian and Karl are roughhousing with Jack and his two friends, all happily. Xander and I join them because moving seems so perfect. I pick Jack up, my hand on his butt and toss him as he laughs. Then we go back to melt into the music again.
The only negative bit is that I seem to be able to follow everyone's conversation no matter how far they are from me. People talking sounds like babble as one voice is over another. It is frustrating. The body sensations continue. I feel wonderful.
The song is Stormy Monday and the long, lugubrious nature of it feels tremendous. Xander looks at me and says, "Sex"
It seems right. The attraction is powerful. I want him. We find a blanket and lay down in the middle of the yard. Even though there are 20 or 25 people around us, almost all of them tripping, including Betty Jean, we feel no shame or embarrassment about it. We are in each other's arms, kissing and touching as the music flows over us. There is something spectacularly unhurried about it. Just kissing him is intensely pleasurable. In the time of 40 forever's, we have our shirts off and my skin is touching his. I feel the boundary between him and me has broken down. We are one. I don't mind having lost myself. The We is better than the I.
Others have followed our lead. Betty Jean and another woman are in each other's arms. Ian and his girlfriend are making out. Karl and Jack and the boys are all in their underwear, all erect and wrestling each other playfully. I don't feel like there is anything dirty or seamy about it. In fact, it seems almost spiritual in a way. The shared pleasure is more honest and real than the kinds of sexual games that all of us play.
We were clawing all over each other as if the music was driving us to do it. My nipples were super sensitive and Xander was sucking them like I imagined he would with a girl. I'd had never really thought of my breasts as an erogenous zone. Eventually, we were on the ground with him on top, sixty-nining. Well, if I thought my nipples were sensitive, they had nothing on my dick. Danny brought us condoms and lube so Xander could penetrate me. I like bottoming but this was crazy unreal. The pleasure was intense, almost too intense to bear. I could almost feel my pleasure echoing off of him. I could actually feel the waves of sensation from him. We were that connected.
When I came, it was the most intense orgasm of my life. But more than that, it was the longest. Usually, it builds until I shoot then it rapidly fades away. This time it lingered. When it finally did ease on off, I felt alive and energized. The world was a beautiful kaleidoscope. All the sounds were lovely. I noticed that Jack was sitting cross legged at the head of the blanket, watching us and rubbing himself.
"Jack," Xander said, patting the ground between us. "Come here."
The boy scrambled in between us and we snuggled up close to him. He squirmed, trying to get as much contact with both of us as possible.
"You don't have to wear your underwear, if you don't want," Xander told him.
I thought his eyes got very big and he looked embarrassed. "It's not very big,"
"I think it's probably perfect"
Jack stripped off his underwear, exposing his erection. His balls were bigger than they ought to be, at least in proportion to the penis, and he proudly pointed out two hairs at the base of the penis, which I honestly had to take his word for as to their existence. He wanted us to know that he wasn't a little kid but that he had started puberty.
"Is this your first time tripping?" Xander asked him. Jack nodded yes. "Just remember that you are completely safe and surrounded by love."
Jack hunched up and leaned toward Xander. "I don't think I like girls."
Xander rubbed his hair. "You might change your mind in a little while. If you don't, that's okay. Some boys only like girls. Dylan only likes boys. I like both. It's all good if there's love. You can masturbate if you want. It'll feel really good."
Jack closed his eyes and began to stroke himself lovingly. I could tell from his breathing that he was enjoying it immensely. We were nestled right up against him and could feel his young muscles as they twitched. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me. There was a look of pleading there.
"Do you want me to?" I asked him. Jack nodded. Gently, I put my hand down there and began to stroke his small, uncut prick. He was lost in rapture, feeling something so amazingly intense, probably the most intensely good he had ever felt. I leaned over and put it in my mouth. He gasped. His balls sucked up toward his head and his body began to twitch and shudder with a dry orgasm. His eyes closed, he let the pleasure flow over him. All three of us laid there, wrapped up together.
Now that we were all satisfied, we took Jack and went around to the back of the house to play tag. Running and laughing naked seemed perfect for a while, especially as we could still hear the music. Jack was laughing and giggling as we ran around naked. Then Xander caught him and whispered into his ear. Jack came running to me and said excitedly, "Xander says that he wants you to fuck him."
I laughed. "Is that all right with you?"
Jack nodded eagerly. "He's your boyfriend so you probably should."
We made love a second time that night on the back porch of the house with an audience of one: a preteen boy who pleasured himself throughout. He was happy and we were too. After we were done, we pleasured him orally again. When we finally fell asleep, Jack was between us, still surrounded by love. I didn't feel guilty or ashamed. It was a positive experience for him and I was glad.