by Sam Haywood
"No, not necessary. Five minute stop at the grocery, and I can do a Frogmore Stew with no trouble at all on the grill out there." I wanted to show that I knew my way around a boiling kettle, too.
Roman thought that was a great idea, and we were free from the burden of spending any more of our time on planning for later. We put the breakfast things away and headed back down to the lake, this time taking our little kit of condoms and lube with us, along with the sunscreen and a cooler with sodas and bottled water. By the end of the day today, we would both have deepened our all-over tans to the envy level.
We swam to the raft towing a little float with cooler and kit bag on it. And that is where we spend the remainder of our time at the lake that day. Within fifteen minutes, Roman was on top of me grinding his big, curved cock into my ass, while my heels tapped his butt on each down-stroke. Then, I rolled him over and took him from the side. I sat on his face and leaned forward to blow him. He turned me around and set me onto his hard dick, giving me the ride of my life.
"Let's get a couple of jet-skis," he said, his dick still inside me.
"Can we fuck on jet-skis?"
""We'll find a way."
"Then I'm in."
At one point, he looked up to scan the horizon. "O. K., his is weird. Past noon on Sunday, and not one naked man from the club in sight. There are usually guys out here fishing. And stuff. I'm beginning to suspect a conspiracy."
"Well, if there is one, I like it."
And so we passed an idyllic morning in the June South Carolina sun on the lake.
About three, after a salad and iced tea, we just closed the cabin doors and hopped into the Jeep and drove toward Hebron. I had to wear shorts and tee shirt for ten minutes while I zipped through the Food Lion for shrimp, boiling potatoes, fresh corn, and kielbasa, and a French loaf. The clothes came off again as we left the parking lot, and we were on our way home.
Home. My home and Roman's. Two men, one roof, one heart. A heart bursting with optimism and happiness.
Chapter 12
We hadn't bothered to get dressed to drive back to my place. The roads were quiet on Sunday afternoon, and it was not that odd to see two shirtless men in a Grand Cherokee on such a warm, sunny day in the country. Of course, much of the time, only one shirtless man was visible, because I sucked Roman off again on the way home-twice. I just had to dress briefly to buy some provisions, while Roman sat naked in the parking lot. I swear, that man is even more brazen than I am.
Since Roman didn't have an opener to my garage door, we had to get out on the driveway and streak to the service entrance, since I did not know the code for the box, either. I hoped my neighbours would prove to be a tolerant lot.
I sang out a greeting as we entered, and Romeo and Byron came running down the stairs excitedly. They were as naked as we.
"Well... tell us!" demanded Romeo.
I was stricken with uncharacteristic shyness. Roman, as always, gave no sign of discomfiture.
"Want to make it a double wedding?"
Byron and Romeo whooped. I took that as a 'yes.' The two of them grabbed the two of us in a wild, leaping group hug that soon turned into a group take-down, as we all collapsed laughing in a pile of naked bodies on the foyer rug. By the time we struggled to our feet, we all had hard-ons.
"Uh, excuse me, but I don't recall there ever having been a proposal of marriage. Booking a wedding may be a bit premature here," I suggested.
Roman lowered himself to one knee before me. He took my hands into his gently and raised them to his lips.
"James Pendleton Carter the Fifth, I love you more than my life, and I cannot live any longer without you. Will you marry me?"
Romeo poked Byron in the ribs. "I wore my best clothes to propose to you, Sweetcakes."
"Yeah and you did it in front of my parents, you baboon."
"Easy, guys. Roman is wearing his best outfit, too. And he knows all his lines. Roman, you are my one true love, the best part of me. With all my heart, I will marry you." He stood and wrapped his arms around me and kissed me with a solemn strength that sent a quiver down to my toes.
"Well, this is all very uplifting and inspiring," said Byron, "but if we might interrupt just for a moment...."
We looked their way, and they explained that they were planning to be at the club tonight. Romeo let it slip that Dalton had called earlier to suggest that they make themselves scarce, because I would be needing privacy. They had an urgent matter they wanted to take up with us themselves, though, before leaving. Byron was the spokesman.
"Hey, guys, tomorrow, Romeo and I are going for our STD tests, down at Dr. Dupree’s lab. We were wondering if y'all would like to come with us, get started on the all-clear to go bareback in a few months."
That didn't sound like all that hot a date, but Roman and I had been planning to do the same thing anyway. We readily agreed to go first thing in the morning. But Byron was not finished.
"Well, we've been talking, Romeo and I. O. K., now don't get me wrong-we've figured out we do really love one another. I was an idiot not to see it sooner...we're serious about this marriage thing...but the thing is, guys, we are some horny sonsofbitches. We can fuck each other's lights out and still be hard! And we're not through school, and don't even go to the same college. Shit. And you two, you're going to be in separate towns a lot of the time. Well, we think we all are going to need more safe people for sex than just us two. What do y'all think about us all agreeing to have faithful polygamous sex just amongst us? And never have more than a blow-job, receiving end, from any outsider? Maybe that would help us not to stray really badly, and all stay healthy, if we had an approved outlet more handy. Hell, I'm saying this badly, but you get the idea. What do y'all think?"
Roman looked at me and raised his brows, smiling coyly. I matched his expression, and it seemed that little devil imps popped out onto both our shoulders.
"Roman, you've got to call this one. I'm going to be right here in Sex Central a lot of the time, and it looks to me like you're the one more likely to get left to The Hand. If it bothers you at all for me to be with them, then we shouldn't do it."
"Guess you didn't know, my school is in Columbia, Jack," laughed Byron.
Well, no I didn't. I didn't remember even hearing where Byron went to school.
So we hit upon a plan that should be workable for all of us, and even save me some money. The four of us would take this house as our principal residence, using the two suites we were presently occupying. Neither of the guys would need housing at their colleges in the fall: Byron would move into the spare room at Roman's condo. Sometimes the four of us would be here, sometimes there, many times in various combinations between the two places. We'd try to see to it that all of us had some kind of sex partner available as much of the time as possible. But of course, we'd also try to be with our own mate whenever circumstances allowed. We'd all stick with condoms until we passed our second HIV test in 90 days. After that, it would be open season on bare skin just among us.
Byron and Romeo put on the briefest of shorts and wife-beaters to drive over to the club for the evening, now in an even more exuberant mood than earlier. I called after them, "O. K., guys, remember the good behavior starts now!"
"Yes, Mother," retorted Byron. And off they went convulsed in laughter at their cleverness in coming up with this whole plan.
I put my arms around Roman and laid my head on his shoulder.
"Are you really O. K. with this? Really?"
He nodded. "If other men are going to fuck you, I'd rather it be them. Of course, I'd prefer it if I get to watch! But really, I want you to be happy. And me, too! We'll both need their mouths and asses sometimes, I'm sure. Yes, I think it's a good arrangement. I'm not going to be too jealous."
It was time to prepare for our mysterious conference with Peter and Dalton. There wasn't much to do. Roman carried the groceries, and I got a big pot from the pantry. We took them out to the pool garden, where I filled the pot with water an
d crab boil, and Roman lit the propane. While the water was heating, I scrubbed up the potatoes, and he shucked the corn. What a help it was to do the prep-work outside and naked! Virtually no clean-up!
At six-fifteen, the water was boiling merrily. I gently dropped the potatoes into the pot and slid the bread into the oven in the cabana. Roman shredded cabbage for slaw. Five minutes later, into the pot went the sausage. Roman made a pitcher of martinis. In another five, the corn joined the potatoes and sausage. We just had one more addition to go, and it was 6:30. Roman strained up four martinis into stemmed glasses. We settled into poolside chairs to sip ours.
"Are you sure we should be naked for this?"
He laughed. "I've been naked around them all of my life. I'm not likely to stop now! It would be a sad thing for a doctor to be hung up about nudity. And being docs, they're sticklers about time. They'll be here any second, that's why I poured their drinks up."
"What about your grandmother? Any chance she may come, too? Did you not invite her?" Bad time for that idea to pop into my head.
"She left yesterday for Paris. Didn't you know?'
"Now how would I know that if no one tells me?"
Roman was deeply penitent. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I've had my mind totally on sex. Well, she postponed her departure because of the funeral. But she went with a friend. Jack, it's how she copes-with everything-she has her own life, you see. She travels a lot nowadays."
It was not the first time I had realized that the Carter and Dupree women did not have the ideal situation. Money can't buy everything, but thank God we all had it, because it surely did help smooth over some rough spots. I thought of my own mother, comfortably ensconced in her home in West Chester. She even had a serious love interest herself now.
The back garden gate opened, and Peter and Dalton entered. Both naked. I chuckled aloud. So much for that bit of worry.
They both looked damn good for their respective ages. With his white hair and tanned, trim body, Peter had a dignified and aristocratic bearing about him even without a stitch on. Dalton, in his mid-fifties now, had some streaks of grey in his full head of hair, but his body was in great shape. I thought, blushing, of a couple of professors in his age group that I had had sex with, who were not nearly as sexy looking as he.
They were as cordial as ever, but there was a hint of tension between them. Knowing upper-class Southerners, I realized that their calm demeanor could conceal any crisis between burning the toast to a comet heading our way in fifteen minutes. I would just have to wait until they chose to reveal it to me.
Roman handed out martinis, and we settled down. Almost immediately, I had to jump up and toss the shrimp into the pot. With only five minutes to go now, Roman served up coleslaw and set the bread and butter and four beers on the table.
It took both Roman and me to lift the huge pot and haul it, steaming, to the sink and strain the boiling water out. That left the food, potatoes, sausages, corn, and shrimp, to dump into a huge wooden trencher my grand-parents kept for this very purpose.
We settled at the table to eat. For half an hour, there was small talk or no talk, while we enjoyed the meal and sipped our beers. Dalton drained the martini pitcher, too. Finally, Peter spoke up.
"Perhaps we'd be more comfortable in the spa now?"
"With more beers? Or brandy?" I asked.
"I'll stick with beer," he said. I got four more out, and we moved to the whirlpool.
For a few minutes, Peter seemed lost in thought as he composed himself. Dalton was uncharacteristically quiet, even for him. Roman and I said nothing as we waited. At last, Peter launched into the business of the evening. Once he began, his monologue flowed almost uninterrupted. It was quite a saga.
***PETER'S STORY***
"I think I should begin with J. P. and me. That takes me back quite a ways. Roman knows some of this, and Jack, you may have figured more out than I'm aware of. But I'll try to cover the essentials as briefly as I can.
"We were neighbours, out in the piedmont country where we grew up. Both of our family farms are still in family hands, about a mile apart. Of course, we went to school together, played sports together, sometimes got together to ride horses, hunt, fish, play games, and so forth. It wasn't until we were in high school that we made the awful discovery. We were attracted to one another sexually. Neither of us had ever heard of such a thing between boys. There was no one to talk to about it. We knew what a sissy was, and we were definitely not sissies, quite the opposite, really. We both loved sports and outdoor activities of all kinds. This was during World War II, mind you. There were almost no young to middle-aged men about. If the war had not ended when it did, we'd have gone into the military, too, right after high school.
"We became inseparable, but in those more innocent days, it caused no scandal. We were just best friends, that was all. But in truth, we were running around naked, riding our horses naked through the fields, fishing in the buff--right on that property where we later built our lake-and figuring out dozens of different ways boys could have sex together. We thought we invented most of them. Hell, we thought we were the first homosexual males in human history, to the extent that we thought of that at all. But something happened to the two of us in those days: we fell in love. And in over fifty years, we never fell out of it.... Jack, you've seen old photos of J. P. in his younger days. I can tell you, they do not do him a bit of justice. If you could have seen him then, how handsome and manly he was. He was, quite simply, the most beautiful man I ever saw in my life. And the most wonderful. I miss him terribly. And even in all the events of this awful week, I have not been permitted to show it."
Peter fought back tears, and we waited for him to continue.
"I was also interested in girls, more than J. P. was, though with his looks, he had to fight them off. I had a few girlfriends on the side, and sometimes we double-dated. We made the decision that we were going to be as much like other men as we could. We would marry, have children, have careers, and families. We would be upstanding members of our community. But we would also have one another, whatever the risks. We went to the University; then I went to med school and J. P. to law school. We both married within a year or so of one another, while still in school, to very pretty and sweet, socially well-placed girls. I don't know why we rushed into that, trying desperately to be normal, I guess. It was common to marry early in those days, because there was so little sex, with nice girls, anyway, outside of marriage. Anyway, we came back to Hebron and set up our practices. We worked hard, and both really tried to be everything we should be. Much of our sex drive got diverted, I think, into our professions, and we both became quite successful. But there was always that emptiness in both our lives, without each other. Oh, we were together when we could be. We bought the creek property and built the lake. We bought these lots and built our houses back to back, so that we could have some access to one another privately from time to time. Our marriages were not miserable ones. I tell you frankly, we both loved our wives. Unfortunately for the women, we loved each other more.
"But I'm getting ahead of myself now. Because what I need to tell you about is the birth of our two sons. Of course, there was no birth control. But in any case, Emmy and I were actually trying to have a child, because that was what she wanted, and I wanted to compensate her in any way I could for my shortcomings to her. Months went by, and she did not conceive. Then, we got the news that your grandmother was expecting. J. P., the one less interested in straight sex, had succeeded where I had failed.
"I had contacts in the med school, of course, and I arranged to get a sperm count done on the Q. T. It came back low. I had been working hard, but mostly firing blanks. Barring a miracle, it was unlikely that I would be able to impregnate my wife. I looked upon it as a judgment upon me, for my perversion. But why must she suffer because of my shame?
"So, Jack, and Roman, I made the miracle happen. We didn't live here yet, of course, but we lived in the two halves of a duplex in the city. W
ell, Emmy was using the temperature method to determine when she was ovulating, something she had just learned about from one of my women classmates in med school, very advanced for the time. She announced one morning that she thought she was ovulating, and that night would be our optimum time to make a baby. I, of course, knew better, but what was I to do? How could I fail her on every front related to our life together?
Well, I got in touch with J. P. I told him to find a way to meet me out in the back behind the garage at 10:00. I said I had to see him, could not wait any longer. After dinner, Emmy and I had a glass of wine and a leisurely evening together. Around 9:45, I told her to prepare herself for bed, and I would be with her shortly-I had a couple of things to take care of first.
What I had to take care of was J. P. I met him behind the garage, and-well, I must tell you just as it was-I sucked him off. But I didn't swallow. I turned immediately, left him with his pants still around his ankles, and I went straight back into our apartment. I stripped off all my clothes in the hallway. I found Emmy, just as planned, waiting for me in the bed. And I went straight to her and planted your grandfather's seed in her vagina. We then had sex as usual, as if the other was merely foreplay. I was fully aware of what I was doing. I even knew there wasn't much chance for success. But it did work, and when Dalton was born, blood type confirmed that J. P. was the biological father.
He paused to let this bombshell sink in with Roman and me. I was stunned. But I was most concerned about Roman, as this affected him so much more than me. I glanced at him.
Roman was not looking at Peter, but at Dalton, and I understood more deeply why I loved this man. He had realized instantly that the one most affected by the confession was his father. He was busily weighing how Dalton was dealing with this admission concerning his birth and ancestry. Now Dalton spoke for the first time.