Grief Of Three: Mmm Gay Menage Romance

by Sam Haywood

  "You're even more gorgeous in the flesh than you were in those pictures," Romeo declared, drinking me in with his eyes as he manipulated my hard-on. "You'll be a sensation down at the club."

  "Club?" I pulled at his dick with one hand and looked up at him.

  "Yeah. Private place. For men. Gay men."

  "Here?" I was honestly surprised.

  "Fourth Street. It's members and guests only, extremely discreet."

  "Ah, so you're a member. But surely Grand-daddy wasn't.... Was he?"

  "It's at Fourth and Lafayette."

  At my incredulous look, he nodded.

  "Yeah, he had just come out of there when he got hit. Don't worry, it won't be talked about in town. The members won't say a word, and anyone else who might know or guess-well, you know, certain things are just not talked about here."

  My hand still grasped his dick, but I stopped stroking while I digested this new tidbit.

  "Can you take me as a guest?"

  "No need. You're a member. For life."

  "Huh? How...?"

  "Actually, you're more than that. You own the place. Well, it supports itself. But you're the landlord."

  I finally let go of Romeo's dick and lay back on the pillow, staring upward.

  "I just thought you'd want to know, that's all."

  "Yeah. I want to know, " I murmured.

  Suddenly, my dickhead was engulfed in warmth and moisture. I glanced down to see the shaft as well slowly disappearing into Romeo's mouth. I'd had a series of surprises out of my cabbie this morning, but this one was a particularly enjoyable one, and I decided not to fret over the others just now. There would be time for that later, and besides, none of it was all that distressing to me. I pulled my hands up behind my head and just lay there, letting Romeo blow me, his fingers caressing my scrotum.

  It's been awhile, I thought, eyes closed and the hint of a smile curling my mouth. Let's see-almost three days since I even had the time to jerk off, and that was only in the shower. Romeo had the entire length of my penis in his gullet, and it was difficult to remember clearly. Well, anyway, I was definitely due for a spew. Should I let him have his reward quickly, or make him work for it? I glanced over at the bedside clock. Shit. 12:55... I was due at the undertakers in just over half an hour. I let my mind clear and released myself completely to the sensual bliss of this handsome young man's lips, tongue, and throat massaging my rod. I focused my eyes on his shiny brown hair bobbing smoothly over my crotch. He bent upward to get a look at my face, and our eyes and smiles fused.

  "Pull my balls. Now."

  As soon as they felt themselves being grasped by Romeo's firm, strong fingers, my full testicles let go of their load of nectar. He pulled authoritatively, and the orgasm rocked my entire pelvic region. My sphincter clenched, my thighs quivered, my lower abdomen tingled. The spurts of fertilizer fluid erupted into Romeo's throat-one, two, three...pause...four...five...six, then a long dribble. Each spasm sent a new wave of ecstasy up the trunk of my body. Romeo finally lay still with my cock resting quietly in his mouth, his tongue gently stroking out the final drops of my ejaculation.

  "Damn. That was good. Tastes like strawberries."

  I chuckled. Lots of people watch their diet, but not many choose their foods according to the effect they will have on the flavour of their ejaculate. I do! I do eat lots of fruit, especially strawberries, and I wouldn't touch garlic, asparagus, or fish if I were starving.

  "I'd love to linger here all day, but I have to go to the funeral home," I broke in. "So please excuse my haste, but would you roll over for me?"

  "I'll roll any way you want, stud!"

  Romeo pushed up higher on the bed and flopped down face first on the pillow next to me, arms under his chin, a big grin on his face. A little glob of my cum moistened the corner of his mouth, and I couldn't resist it-I wiped if off with my little finger and popped it into my mouth. Hmmm. Some of my better vintage, and it did have a hint of strawberry flavour. I ran my fingers down his long torso from shoulder to butt as I moved down to his lower body. Man, what a view. His may be the prettiest ass I had ever seen, exquisitely rounded and smooth, just a light strip of hair creeping from the ball-sack to the crack.

  "Hell, if I'd-a-known you was a top stud, I'd-a-shaved that. I'm so used to being on top myself-especially in this bed. But this is a refreshing change!"

  "Don't worry, you'll be on top soon enough. I'm just in the mood to fuck ass. I gotta be quick, though. I'll give you the full treatment later."

  "You just came a huge load. Can you go again so soon?"

  My oral response was to plant my lips squarely around Romeo's puckered asshole and slide my slimy tongue across it. He was about to find out that I can, indeed, "go again." I'm bragging now a little, I guess, but I can back this up-I'm one of those rare men who, when horny, pack a six-shooter. If he had kept sucking me, I'd have given him another mouthful in just a few minutes without ever deflating. And even then, I could have fucked him and a few other guys within the hour. But I would let my new buddy find all this out for himself. At the moment, I was slurping away on the hottest ass of my career. I got my tongue in about half-way, though his ring was strong and tight. He was muttering some kind of incantation of a religious nature, that started out, "Oh, God in heaven..." and ended with "Jesus, Oh Lord."

  Suddenly, he came to himself enough to add, "'there's supplies in that night table drawer,"

  I reached across and easily drew out a tube of lube and a rubber. Rolling him back over, I laid the condom on his abdomen while I flipped the top on the lube and reached under his low-hanging balls and smeared some on his hole. He tore open the package with his teeth and expertly unrolled the sheath onto my cock. It fit sleekly, not too tight. I glanced at the package-Magnums. Either Grand-daddy was an optimist, or he knew what to expect from his partners! It occurred to me that my inheritance was ideally suited to me on just about all fronts. I pressed the head of my dick against Romeo's anus and I slid it in, smiling as the long sigh emanating from Romeo's throat almost seemed to be pushed out by my cock invading from the opposite end, like a plunger effect. When my pubes hit his ball-sack, he had nine inches of thick phallus inside him. I lay flat across his body, tits to tits and toes to toes, and tongue to tongue as I waited quietly for his muscles to relax around their invader.

  "Ummm. Any time, stud."

  I began to flex my hips slowly, like a steam engine building up a head of steam. First an inch in, an inch out, then two, then three. My tits still lay on his, my belly plastered to his. He gradually drew his feet upward to my hips, then planted his heels atop my buns. Finally, as I was long-dicking him rhythmically, pulling out all the way to the corona before plunging back inside the depths of his bowel, I raised my chest up and pulled his knees around my shoulders so that his feet flopped above my back at every thrust. I turned my head left and planted a big, wet kiss on his instep, then ran my tongue upward to his big toe. Without missing a beat, I let his toe slide into my mouth, and I sucked it like a cock while I fucked him. Romeo didn't say much, but his expression was one of pure bliss.

  I gave him a pretty good ride, but then-OK, this is crass, but-I glanced over at the clock again, and saw it was now 12:15. Time to fill the skin! I doubled my speed and slammed hard against Lon's firm buttocks, slapping my balls wetly against his tailbone. In one minute, I was again ejaculating forcefully, this time into the reservoir end of the Magnum. After a few final, jism-stripping butt grinds, I pulled out and rolled over.

  "I'm sorry, I really hate to fuck and run, but I do need to be at the funeral home fast. Can we finish this later? You free?"

  "Oh, I need to work a little, too, I guess. Yeah, I'm free by 4:00, 4:30. Back here?"

  "Come to the pool. I'll be out there."

  Romeo grinned. "Today is Byron's pool maintenance day. He comes around 3:00. But don't worry, he's cool. By the way, did I tell you Byron is Ruth Ann's son? A very late-in-life one, though, because he's only 20. And no, J. P. was
not doing him, not 'far as I know. But Byron does belong to the club."

  I looked at him quizzically.

  "Yep, most racially integrated institution in the state, and has been from the beginning. Hell, the straight men never had a problem fucking coloured women! Why should the gay ones be any different?"

  My stay in South Carolina was nothing if not educational. "So how about you? And Byron?"

  "We get along really well. The two of you will, too. See both of you later on."

  By now I was off the bed and slipping into my clothes. I came around and gave Romeo a deep farewell kiss, then headed for the door, as he also sat up and reached for his shorts.

  "Oh, but tonight...Let's go to the club, OK? Things start up there around eight, this is a kind of early-night town. And tonight is "strip pool" night. Play Eight-ball?"

  "Where do you think I got my spending money at Columbia?"

  "From your grand-daddy."

  "Well, yes, mostly. But I picked up some extra playing Eight-ball."

  "You might get to see me naked, then. But there aren't many left in town who haven't." Romeo laughed, sitting on Grand-daddy's bed, still naked. I laughed too, then turned and walked off quickly to see the undertaker and finish planning that same grand- daddy's final rites.

  Chapter 2

  After a quick stop at my room to whip on a fresh shirt, long slacks, and loafers, I hustled down the stairs and through the butler's pantry, where I knew there would be a set of keys to Grand-daddy's Caddy. By the time I got the garage door opened, Romeo's cab was already backing out of the driveway behind me, and I was only ten minutes from the funeral home.

  That whole errand took less than half an hour, and all my misgivings about it were worry wasted. It turned out that Grand-daddy was in firm control of matters despite his death. He had his cremation scheduled, and had broken the heart of Mr. Gilchrist, the mortician, by ordering no add-ons whatsoever. A call to Dr. Ford, the pastor, established that Friday noon would, indeed, be a convenient time, and that the deceased even had a funeral planning form on file at the church, with scriptures and music all selected. The obituary was done except for a handful of blanks to fill in. All I had to do was approve ordering flowers and paying for the organist and janitor fees.

  There were only two meaningful surprises. First, Grand-daddy had stipulated that a reception for friends was to be held in his home following. With rules of southern hospitality in force, that meant a full meal for who knew how many people, lasting a good two or three hours. But a quick cell-phone consultation with Ruth Ann, whom I found at the hair-dresser's, eased my mind. Her brother-in-law, Cedric, it turns out, makes the best barbecue in this part of the state, and has children, nieces, and nephews sufficient to serve the entire town. In addition, he had no problem with serving all those cakes and casseroles that the townspeople were, even now, processing over to the house with. So we would have a post-funeral extravaganza with little effort on my part at all.

  The second proviso was that the ashes were to be interred at a later date in a niche already constructed in the back wall of Grand-daddy's garden. All those named in his will were to be present, and no one else. That made me start to wonder who else might be in the will, as I had been told I was the heir-or was it "principal beneficiary?" I tried to recall exactly what Mr. Spurlock, Grand-daddy's law partner, had said when he called me with his shocking news the previous night, to no avail. Perhaps I'd better not sign the papers on that Mercedes convertible I had been picturing myself in just yet! The joke would really be on me if I turned out to be the executor of an estate whose proceeds went mostly to other people.

  But my Columbia law degree was not exactly worthless (I'd already had several impressive offers), and my dad's estate had left me with a decent allowance. I wasn't really worried about my financial future. So I decided to make Mr. Gilchrist smile at last by asking him to add a limo rental to the tab. It worked, too; his mouth turned up perceptibly at the edges. Now neither Romeo nor I would have to drive the Caddy. I'd ask him to join me in the limo, though, and Ruth Ann and Byron as well. Might as well give the home folks a treat and keep up appearances somehow.

  By the time I shook Mr. Gilchrist's moist, limp hand on the front steps of his establishment, I was feeling a bit giddy. Strange reaction to the mixture of shock, grief (yes, I did have feelings for old J. P.), confusion, lust, perplexity, and excitement I was experiencing all at once. As I slid into the car seat just yesterday occupied by the former owner, whom I now knew to be a lot randier and friendlier to my orientation than I ever could have imagined, I almost started to cry. But then, oddly, I began to laugh instead, at Grand-daddy, at myself, at the bizarre human condition. I felt like I'd had three martinis-and in fact, that seemed like a good plan.

  By the time I left the parking lot, both my loafers were off, kicked into the passenger side floorboard. By the second traffic light, my khakis were off, too, and tossed into the back seat. I turned right and, within the next block, unbuttoned my shirt and slipped out of it, sending it to join the slacks. I was driving through downtown Hebron, South Carolina buck naked. Though the air conditioner was roaring in the early summer heat, I hit the buttons that lowered all the windows, allowing the warm wind to wash over my torso and fondle its way down to my thighs and groin. One more button pushed, and the sun-roof opened as well, allowing the full power of the sun to sear into my naked skin. What a fabulous, luxurious sensation of freedom, release, and full-body sensual stimulation. I felt every cell of my skin all at once, from the soles of my feet to the scalp of my head, and every neuron tingled with irrational joy.

  Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to notice the light ahead turn red, and I eased to a stop. In the respite, I began to breathe more smoothly and regain some sense of sobriety and calm. I lay my head back against the seat rest. From the corner of my eye, I saw a blue and yellow object pull up beside me on the right-a bread delivery truck preparing to turn right. I turned my head slightly. It had one of those full-length doors that, open, revealed the full view of a thirty-something driver, a dark black man dressed in navy shorts and shirt, with white socks and sneakers. And white teeth, grinning down at me! Under his narrow moustache, his lips puckered and emitted a low wolf-whistle. Then his tongue emerged to lick all the way around those lips. I looked at my lap self- consciously. Yep. My dick was in pole position for sure.

  A honk sounded behind the bread truck, someone else wanting to turn right on the red light. My neighbor grinned, shrugged, and shook his head wonderingly as he eased the truck on around the corner. The little red Saturn behind him followed suit, oblivious to the scene that had caused the delivery man to delay his turn.

  My light changed to green, and I eased carefully through the intersection. In a couple of minutes, I turned onto the residential street, hit the garage door opener, and sailed right up the driveway and into the garage.

  As the door came down behind me, I just caught a glimpse of a small SUV pulling into the driveway. I wasn't expecting anyone, and supposed it was most likely more food from the neighbours or church ladies. I was in no condition to receive a plate of brownies. I gathered my clothes and draped them over the railing of the back stairs, then waited to see if my theory about southerners bringing condolences would hold up. The front doorbell rang. After thirty seconds, the door opened, and I heard a hesitant female voice call out, "Ruth Ann? Jack, are you here?" Then another pause. Then the clicks of high heels moved through the foyer, the dining room, and into the kitchen, only one swinging door from where I stood naked, leaning casually against the stair rail. I heard the clink of bottles as the refrigerator door opened, then closed. The clicking heels retraced their steps, ending with the clunk of the front door closing behind the visitor. No doubt a congealed gelatine salad had joined the other three in the over-sized Sub-zero.

  I grinned to myself. Yes, the deliveries could continue all afternoon without my participation. As the bereaved one, I was entitled to a claim of privacy, at least for the mom
ent, even if they suspected I might be in the house. I strolled nonchalantly down the back hallway past the laundry and utility rooms and out the service entrance, onto Grand- daddy's spacious patio.

  This would make the ideal space for overflow reception area, in case the after- funeral crowd was large. The patio itself had a covered section, with comfortable seating, and two uncovered sections with their own wrought iron furniture groupings. Beyond it lay an impressive formal garden with paths and small islands of lawn interspersed with shrubs and annual plantings. Two fountains bubbled away, one with a sexy mermaid ornament, the other with an even sexier nude Neptune statue. I remembered being turned on by Neptune and indifferent to the mermaid from my earliest days visiting this garden. I guess I was thirteen or so before it dawned on me what that meant.

  Wandering around the garden naked was no problem as far as the neighbours were concerned. The house to one side was single-story; on the other, I knew that the widow who resided there was unable to climb stairs and lived entirely on the first floor. To the rear, some distance away across the back garden, was the home of Dr. Dupree, Grand- daddy's best friend from childhood. I thought of him as a pretty cool guy, a prominent surgeon. I'd skinny-dipped in this pool with his grand-son Roman when I was about 8 and Roman maybe 11. But in any case, their view, and their neighbours', was mostly blocked by the wisteria that grew atop the brick wall separating the two properties (the very wall in which Grand-daddy's niche would be located, I recalled.) I meandered through the garden casually toward the circular Oriental wooden gateway which led further back to the pool garden in the rear.